Mira
by knirbenrots
Summary: They're back, Grisha. The Comescus are back. Leave, and make yourself unseen.
1. Chapter 1

**Mira**

Chapter 1

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A/N To those who decide to start and read this story: welcome! Any review is very welcome, as ever. And, just to make sure, this is no love story whatsoever.

Kni®benrots

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Disclaimer: as ever, I'm glad to use the #NCISLA characters in this storyline. They all belong to CBS and Shane Brennan's production.

* * *

 _They're back, Grisha. The Comescus are back. Leave, and make yourself unseen._

* * *

The short phone call of his boss came at an unusual time of the day. Although he was about to get up at five in the morning, this was no usual alarm-call for all the team members. This was an unexpected personal call and the message came just as unexpectedly. So was the way she spoke; rushed yet a unusual low voice as well. "They're back, Grisha. They are back. Leave, make yourself unseen."

Before he could ask anything at all, he was aware of the loud noises in the background in Hetty's place and the call was disconnected just like that. He let her message sink in for a minute.

Callen didn't need to guess who Hetty meant. 'They' could only mean that years ago, he and his team had been wrong and there were Comescus left and, worse, they knew that he was still alive.  
Right now, he needed to act and act fast. The way Hetty urged him to leave — something must have triggered her, yet she didn't tell him what it was. And then there was something which was so bothering him even more than her message only — the alarming noises in the background. As if... as if they found her instead of him.

Finally, Callen decided to call Hetty back. Nothing happened. No one to answer the phone, nor did it switch to the usual voice mail. He sighed deeply. Callen simply needed to know if she was alright. Right now, it was too bad he could not rely on his usual partner; after all Sam was still somewhere in Florida with his kids, since Hetty had granted him another few weeks to mourn. It had only been five weeks ago that Sam Hanna tragically lost his wife. Michelle had been murdered and they all had witnessed her struggle to stay alive. In vain.

Right now, Callen wanted to know what Hetty meant. And despite the early hour of the Saturday, he called Deeks. His co-worker's sleepy voice sounded after over six rings. "Yeah? Callen? What's up?"  
Callen felt he didn't really have to explain. "Hetty. Could you guys go check on her place? She called me..."

"Gimme one good reason why I should go and check. Or what, make it worse, why would I want to wake my sleeping beauty? Why call and tell me, and not go yourself?" Deeks asked with an exaggerated yawn.  
Callen's reply was short. "Comescus. Listen, I gotta go. Call me if you know more".

"Wait, what… Where you're heading to?" Deeks asked, seriously now.  
"Dunno. Call me and let me know if you find anything you don't like. Or wait, just call me anyway."  
On that, Callen hung up.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

During his whole life, Callen had found several places he used as hiding places. Places where he hid clothes, money and sometimes weapons too, if available. And there were at least ten places in town where he could sleep — safe houses he chose himself and of which the addresses were unknown to anyone else. Hetty knew he lived this way. Like she knew that there was only place used for more intimate meetings, the place he used as a home, as a base, the North Curson Avenue house. And she had called. She'd practically summoned him to leave, but why? Was there fear that somehow, the 'they' Hetty mentioned would know where he lived too? What kind of breach was he dealing with? All sorts of questions that raced through his mind, but which he needed to park somewhere in his head.  
First things first.

Right now, Callen decided it were best that he headed for one of those places he chose himself, the very same abandoned orphanage where he'd met Hannah Lawson. Hannah, who tried to live her life as Amy Callen. All he knew was that she and her husband still lived somewhere in town, but he never had felt he needed to contact her. He knew what he needed to know, and it didn't add anything to talk to her again.

Never mind the fences and the signs that told him not to enter, Callen needed a place to crash and to rest. Or at least, that's what he thought.

Minutes after he laid down, his phone rang once more.

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 _Thank you for reading!_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 **Mira**

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 _A/N Thank you all for reading and for leaving your reviews. I appreciate it a lot!  
I'm sorry it was a very short chapter, this one is only slightly longer. The idea of writing this down was the simple fact that Miriam (Miri, on twitter) told me she rewatched Reznikov. Thinking back on that episode, it was easy to come up with - with this!  
_

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With his thoughts still with Hetty and the situation she, and he himself, were dealing with, the buzz of his own cell phone startled Callen.  
He took the item and immediately recognized the number that appeared on his screen. "Not now, Arkady," he said.

With the still audible Russian accent, the older man replied quickly. "Yes, Callen. Now is the time. I have to let you know that there are men looking for you."

Gone was his reluctance. "How do you know? Did Hetty called you?"

"Henrietta? Hell no." A short and huffing laugh sounded. "No, my friend. There were three men who called at my door this morning, demanding everything about your whereabouts."

"Who were they? And what did you tell them?" Callen wanted to know.

Now a loud laugh sounded. "Me? I told nothing. You see, I wasn't even there, since Ivanka asked me to spend the night with her."

"No need to know that. Who were they?"

"Vlad was there. He tells me that he never saw these men before. Eastern Europe, definitely, he said. But that's all he explained to me. You see, it doesn't matter. All they told Vlad was to let me know that they wanted to know, well, to tell more about you. Your work, places you spend your day, perhaps making some appointment, you know, right? Things some people want to know."

Callen sighed as he let Arkady's words sink in. Then he decided he might just as well share what he knew with the older Russian. "They're Comescu, Arkady. All I knew is that they were at Hetty's place too."

An awkward whistling sound reached his ear before Arkady replied. "Comescu? Again? Wow... So they are still around and thhey smelled your blood again and decided to hunt you down am I right? You better get a head start then and make sure they don't find you."

"I know, Arkady, believe me, I know. Kensi and Deeks are checking on Hetty's place."

"Which one?" The older Russian asked.

"No need to know," Callen replied with a deep sigh.

"After all those years of being your friend and you still do not trust me? You should know better than that. You know I forgive you on ending your relationship with my daughter, and I let you know before that it won't affect our, ehm, friendship."

"It's not that I don't trust you," Callen said. "It's just that... well, my team is checking already, and you know how they feel about you. I don't think there's anything you can do in there, Arkady. And just to let you know, it's her Beach House."  
"Alright," Arkady said. "You just stay put until I let you know what I can find out."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Callen started to really worry when after over an hour, none of his friends had called back. Worse, none of their phones were answered when he tried to reach them.  
He paced through the empty and desolated dormitory, wondering what to do next. He glanced at his plain black Fossil watch. 9:30 on a Saturday morning. Perhaps he should contact the wonder twins. They probably would want to assist, in whatever way.  
He sighed deeply, then decided it was much easier to go and check on the place himself.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Callen drove one of the unnoted cars he owned, this time an older Ford which he had parked near his hiding place. He headed straight to Hetty's place, wondering whatever might have gone wrong and why Deeks hadn't made the call he promised before. His mind was in a whirl — how could any of the Comescus find out about him still being alive, and who of this Romanian family knew? Which one of them was still alive? After all, their family was so large, and he was... No longer alone. The thought hit him hard. Unlike before, he had only his work family to take care of. Now, there were more; people who were connected by blood. Relatives.  
Suddenly, there was the fear for his father and Alex, her boy... He drove his car to the right, slowed down and finally pulled over. Then he took his phone once again, scrolled through the numbers and dialed.  
"Dad, you're okay?" he asked the moment his father answered the phone. He could practically sense the curiosity with the answer his father gave.

"Grisha, something may be wrong? We're doing fine in here. And it sounds as if you are surprised to hear so. Tell me, what is wrong?"

Callen shook his head, unseen for the other side of the line. "Too much to explain. Do me a favor, and take Jake and Alex to let's say San Diego or somewhere else, out of town."

Garrison didn't answer but came up with another question. "Son, tell me what is wrong and what it is you're not telling me."

Callen paused a second, then decided to reply with one single word 'Comescu'.

"Whàt? How'd..." Garrison stopped talking. In the line of work of his son, and his own work before, he simply knew. There was danger, responsibility and secrecy. And Garrison hated it.  
All his life, he'd experienced the same dangers as his son went through too. Dangers which cost the loss of his wife. It was only during the past few years, he had tried to retire. With his latest lover being so sick and about to die, he realized that having children was something he needed to cherish.  
He'd lost too much — Clara, the love of his life. And their children, or so he'd thought. It had been a miracle that he found his son, alive, and was reunited with him before it was too late, but until now, their relationship was far from normal.  
With Alex, things were less complicated, more relaxed. It still was painful to see how the young son he used to know grew up in another country and had such a troublesome life so far. Garrison wished things would turn out differently for his son, soon, before his own life was over. Still, he hesitated as he tried to find the right words.  
"Dear son, of course I will protect them from whatever danger may occur, but the Comescus will not know of them. They will be safe."

"No they won't," Callen argued. "Not when they know about the connection between them and I. No matter they are not related to my mother, to Clara, to the Callens, the Comescus will find out. They will want to use them, 'moya semja', to get to me, or worse, they're gonna be killed anyway." Callen nearly snapped now. "Listen, I don't feel like explaining. I gotta go and I can't use any distraction or worry about the three of you, so please just do what I asked." He emphasized the word three.

This time Garrison sighed deeply, and it was Callen who felt the reluctance of his father. "I'll keep them safe, Grisha. Just... be safe too, please."

Callen did not respond as he wasn't the person for comfortable chit-chat. He simply disconnected, then switched the gear of the car from neutral to drive, checked his rear view mirrors as he planned to go ahead, when his phone rang, again.  
He felt the tension leave his body the moment he recognized the number. "Deeks," he said, with a sigh of relief.

There was a short pause before the response came.

* * *

 _Thank you so much for reading. I'd love to hear your thoughts about this story!_

Kni®benrots


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 **Mira**

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A/N Oh, wow… Thank you so much for those marvelous reviews, likes and favorites. Of course I have been plotting out this story and am always try to be a few chapters ahead and I sincerely hope that what lies in the future won't disappear. For your information: I am a real Callen-atic, so for those who prefer other fandoms: sorry, won't be able to write any of those.

Anyway, thank you, Petunia, Linda, Wotumba, Lizard1969, Mulderette, Susan, Skippy, Natz29, Janice, Vicki, Karine, Santosh, FrenchGuest, Amjm and eskiwetatat, for your supportive words!

* * *

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

"Deeks," he said, with a sigh of relief.

There was a short pause before the response came.

"Agent Callen".

Not his teammate, and it caused something between a gasp and a curse from his side, though he tried to swallow it for the other listener. This was not good, and he felt his blood chill.

The same voice came through the phone. "Surprised, are we?"

Callen still remained silent, and the person obviously liked the way he had caused at least some uneasiness. The other man continued. "Your co-worker somehow agreed that I could use his phone to contact you. He was or maybe still is, how shall I call it, tied up with something he shares with your boss and that other agent. She's pretty, by the way. Very pretty. Her partner, you call him Deeks, right? Well, this Deeks liked it less that my men have an excellent taste as well. Now, as I said —"

Callen was going to interrupt as he had needed a moment to gather his thoughts first. He scraped his throat, not sure if he would be able to keep his voice under control.  
A car tried to park behind him and honked his horn to show that Callen needed to find another place. He didn't mind, it gave him exactly the time to clear his voice.  
"What do you want?" Then he corrected himself and added "Who are you and what do you want?"

All he heard was a hollow laugh which was followed by a counter question. "What is it what YOU want, agent Callen? Or perhaps you ought to ask yourself a question: what do those friends of you want?"

The more and closer Callen listened to this man, the more he was convinced that the mother tongue of the man wasn't Romanian. Rather Russian, probably from the Georgia region. Not that it really mattered, ever since the first question mattered most.  
"You are working for a Comescu. It's clear to me what they want." There was no use in mentioning what it was as Callen simply knew. Then he pondered about the other thing that the man had asked. What would the others think?  
About what?

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Torrance Beach || Paseo de la Playa**

Kensi kneeled next to the older woman, deciding to ignore the seven men she counted who were around. Guards who were near desperate to keep them in the this room, something like a den in which Kensi's whole living room would fit. "You sure you are alright Hetty?" she asked.

The older woman looked up and Kensi did not need an answer. The look in her eyes was a mixture of anger and despair, of grief and vengeance. Her gaze went to the lifeless body of Jacob, her personal assistant, behind the two men posting between this room and her living room.  
"Oh, dear girl, I don't think all right is what I would call my mindset right now. Look at this… the poor man." Jacob had been with her ever since his predecessor was killed. A man with no spouse, no children, no ties whatsoever. Still, she had appreciated his being around. A veteran, someone who would die for her. And so he did.  
She swallowed away something which felt like a large lump and she blinked her eyes several times before she was able to look the younger woman in the eyes. "Perhaps I was careless. Perhaps not... perhaps this is what they planned all the time."

Careless was not what anyone could identify with when it came to Hetty, and Kensi decided not to emphasize any of Hetty's words. "Who are they, Hetty? And what do they want?"  
She paused a moment too, since deep down she knew. But she needed to hear it herself. "Was Callen right, when he called us?"

This time, there was a silent struggle anyone could read on the older handler's face. Then, Henrietta Lange replied, since she had to tell what was all too obvious for her. "The Comescus found me, and through me, they'll find Callen."

"No, they won't," Deeks stated, speaking in a low voice. "I mean… will they? He asked us to come and check, instead of coming around himself."

Somehow he wanted to believe too what he said. But his ideas were shattered the moment the two men who had left the circle around them, re-entered. This time they held a gun pointed at the older man they ordered to the inner group in which Deeks himself was.

"Arkady?" Kensi said, not knowing what to think of him being here.

Hetty looked up and shook her head in a kind of disbelief in the meantime. "Mr. Kolcheck… Arkady… Now, please do share with us why you find yourself in our company? There has to be a good reason for you show up in my place, at this peculiar time of the day, after all."

The grey-haired man lifted his shoulders as in a shrug. "Henrietta. You know me. Whenever I worry I come for you."  
He studied the faces of the three other people whom he knew they cared for Callen as well, and read the message in their eyes. Then he spread his arms. "Wait, Henrietta, my friend. There is not the possibility that you think I know these people?"

She let her gaze go over the other man, caught the look on his face which was far from cynical now, contrary from how she knew him. This time, she shook her head again, knowing he was to be trusted right now. "It's okay, Arkady. But please, do tell us what happened. How come you're around?"

"Callen. I called him, since some of these goons came to visit my place," Arkady explained. "I wanted to warn him. Then he told me that the detective boy—" and he pointed a finger at Deeks, "that you failed to call him back. So… Here I am, Henrietta. Checking if you are okay."

Hetty's brief answer was "I see…"  
The four of them were silent for a minute. Then, Hetty glanced at the deceased man who live with her for over two years. In a sad voice, she said "This is all my doing."

Kensi shook her head. "How could it be, Hetty? Like you said, Jacob simply stepped forward in a way to protect you. Perhaps he was at the wrong time and the wrong place. They killed him. You didn't."

Again, Hetty opposed. "Oh, Miss Blye, but that is not what I meant. It is… I just wanted to share my statement that must have been sloppy, quite sloppy. The many times I visited Owen when he was hospitalized — I really never paid attention to anyone else who may have been around, nor if anyone followed me back home."

Again, Deeks cut her off. "They could have followed us. Or follow Callen, if you'd prefer."

"Never Mr. Callen," Hetty stated, adamant. "You all must be aware how careful he is about his whereabouts. Remember, Mr. Deeks, how you once made a remark about him being paranoia." She uttered some sort of chuckle, which did not fit with the hazardous situation of that same moment. "No," she repeated. "Never Mr. Callen. He takes side roads. Takes a break in a pub or restaurant. Switches cars whenever he feels like doing that. No, Mr. Deeks, it was me. They found me and they came in here, before dawn."

Arkady nodded. "They understand that they can get to Callen through you, Henrietta. It's just a trap. Luring him this way."

"But we don't want that. We need to prevent it!" Kensi exclaimed. "What can we do to stop Callen from doing exactly that?"

"I'm afraid there's no stopping him. Not when he knows about us, about the Comescus. Not my boy…" Hetty murmured.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Callen still sat behind the wheel of his car, paler now from under the baseball cap he wore. Silent now, though his mind was working full speed.

"Well?"

Of course that question pushed him to think even more. All he knew was that the man he spoke to right now, used Deeks' phone. For all he knew, his friends weren't even alive right now. His breathing hitched as his negative thoughts tried to get the upper hand. "Let me talk to my coworker. The man whose phone you are using, get him on the phone," he requested.

A croaking and huffing laugh sounded. "Vigo told us you're an arrogant son of a bitch. He's right, I can see that now. What makes you think, agent Callen, that you are the one to make demands?"

Vigo… Callen hadn't heard the name before. He supposed that Vigo was a Comescu, probably the head of the family at the moment, and definitely someone who knew more about him than the other way around. He considered himself to be naïve, and sloppy, that he never even cared to check about the family. Not after Schreiber was killed right in front of his eyes, and Callen himself was saved just in time by Sam. All of them figured that none of the Comescu family survived. How wrong he'd been…  
He needed his focus on the others, his team.  
"I just want prove that my friend is still alive. There's no need to discuss anything with you or your boss if anything happened with my friends." He managed to keep his voice as cold as possible, although the remarks of the other man made his blood run cold.

Then, there were some stumbling sounds and muffled voices in the background, and moments later, the line was clear enough. "Deeks?" he asked.

"Hey man," Deeks said. His voice was flat, without the usual flair.

"Deeks, you're okay, and Kenz? You're with Hetty?" Callen asked.

"Yes. Arkady's here too. You just stay—"

Muffled voices again and then again, the middle man for the Comescus was back. "So? You made a decision?"

Callen closed his eyes for a brief moment and simply asked "About what?"  
He actually knew already what the answer was going to be.  
The man began to raise his voice "About their lives. About how to save their lives."

He knew exactly what it would mean. He was granted one last choice. "Let me think," Callen asked.

"Again… You will do one of two things. Think about it. But think… quick. If you go wrong, you'll lose your friends. Let's say I call you in two minutes from now." The call was disconnected immediately after.

He sat behind the wheel, leaned back in the seat. For once, he wished he could drive until he'd lose the road.  
If only he could reach Sam. Instead, he made a very quick call to Nell, hoping she could do miracles like she'd proved in the past.

* * *

 _Thanks so much for taking the time to read this chapter. Of course, your comments are very welcome!_

*the last few lines were based on the song 'How to save a life' by The Fray


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 **Mira**

* * *

Disclaimer: as ever, I'm glad to use the #NCISLA characters in this storyline. None of them belong to me though.

A/N: all the things I come up with in this storyline, are 'just imagine' thoughts. Who knows… Thank you again for reading the previous chapter and all the reviews that you've left!  
 _This chapter may end with quite a cliffhanger, just saying._  
Hope to upload a bit faster next time!

Kni®benrots

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o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Palos Verdes Boulevard, near Sepulvada **

There was the promise to be called back in two minutes, and Callen knew that if he kept driving, he'd only needed some minutes more to reach Hetty's place. However, he kept his car where it was and with its engine still running. He needed time, time to proceed all that was going on.

Most people considered two minutes as quite a short period of time.

Nell had answered his phone call within three rings, which actually was between five and six seconds.  
Her greeting took perhaps two seconds more. His message 'get a SWAT team to Hetty's beach house, immediately, and give director Vance an 'agents in distress' message,' cost maybe ten seconds. All in all, half a minute went by.

The next minute and a half seemed to last like hours. Callen was all too aware that no matter what team Nell was going to alert, they would need another quarter of an hour at least to group and be briefed, before they'd be ready to head over to the place.  
There were only two scenarios he could think out in another half a minute. None of them would seem to work really well in his opinion.

In a minute from now, Vigo Comescu's man would call him back. This remaining minute felt like a lifetime.

Although he expected the call, he was startled when his phone rang. He let it buzz once again before he had the guts to answer it. He needed a deep breath before he answered it. His 'Yes?' wasn't too self-assured, but it matched his feelings.

"We were curious to hear about your next step, agent Callen. There is a way to let your co-workers know that they still can work together, albeit they will need to find another team-leader." There was something like a chuckle from the man. With his croaking voice, it sounded like a series of coughs.

Callen needed to swallow several times. "How—" He started again, trying to make sense of what the other man meant. "What do I need to do to let them go?"

"It is quite simple. You need to decide to come on over and switch places with your team. If you'd decide differently, well… Our team won't hesitate to make our own decision. Ponimat? Understand what I'm telling you?"

Was there any choice at all? "Yes. I understand." Softer then and with a slight hitch in his voice, he added "I will be there."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Torrance Beach || Paseo de la Playa || ten minutes later**

He'd parked the car opposite of Hetty's place. Nothing suspicious for the eye, which was even more dangerous. Sure, he saw the car Kensi usually drove and a posh Mercedes which could only belong to Arkady Kolcheck. Callen heaved a deep sigh. Who-ever was behind this, definitely knew what to do. Probably the result of a careful observation of the place.

Once again, Callen considered if there was a way to get all of his friends out. A way, a scenario he hadn't seen until now. But this time, his thoughts were far from resourceful. It was as if he was fighting a losing battle, no matter what. Yet, it was his battle — and never the one of his friends. No way he could have turned his back and not knowing what would happen.

Still, Callen didn't know the rules for this kind of endgame. All he realized was that he was losing it. Losing the control. No plan B, no back-up team. It was his battle and feeling he was about to lose it was like having to let go a slippery thread from his hands.

He swallowed several times, then clenched his jaw and fisted his hands. Only after he controlled his breathing, he opened the door of the car he'd driven and got out.  
Then he more or less dragged himself from the sideway to the driveway. He intended to go just to the front door, see if there was a possibility to just keep talking and stall whatever went on.  
Maybe Nell would have a team around sooner rather than later.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Inside**

Oh how she recognized his voice. And oh, how she hoped he would have stayed far from her place, no matter with or without any back-up. And frankly – she knew him well enough. He never deliberately wanted to be a hero, not now. This was personal.  
Hetty kept her breath just to try and hear what he was saying. "V-o see — ee … em-Go." It was too far from the place they were staying, and still outside. What followed were only some hums. Whether or not those were positive, she could not tell.

"Oh bugger Mr. Callen," she sighed, ignoring the grim smile of leader of the heavily armed men who kept them guarded in the den of her very own place, which was now her prison for the time being.  
Henrietta Lange swallowed several times, seeing no way out for her, Arkady, Deeks and Kensi. Not now, unless Callen had taken his own army to come marching in. But knowing him, her boy, the fear of some completely different outcome grew with the second.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Outside**

Instead of being able to head for the front door, the croaky voice of the man who called with Deeks' phone sounded behind him.

"A wise decision, it really is, agent Callen."

Contrary to what Callen had pictured, the man was small and rather fat. It was the look in his pale brown, watery eyes though that made him aware of the fact he might deal with a weasel like person. For a brief moment, the man let his gaze go over Callen, as if he were checking if the other man could be trusted. When finally, his eyes met Callen's clear blues, he nodded several times as if he was pleased with what he saw.  
He lifted his left hand and put the ends of a cigarette between his lips and inhaled with the satisfaction of a survivor.

Callen raised his arms, showing he came unarmed. "So you wanted me in here, and here I am."

"You are," the man replied. Without any words, he made Callen accompany him from the front of the house along the side wall to the back of the house. This time, the man sniffed his nose aloud.

"Vigo wanted to see me?" Callen asked as he managed to put a bravura in his voice and behavior he never felt.

"Uhuh," was the only comment he got.

He straightened his shoulders and stated "You promised to let them go. That's the deal, so show me you're keeping your promise."

The man flicked the rest of his cigarette aside. There was a short smirk and a flicker in the eye that Callen caught as well. "We'll let them go."

Callen shook his head. "You need to prove it."

Two pair of strong arms pulled him backwards, away from the house. Out of sight, to the back of the secluded garden. "Now wait," he said. "I was told that Vigo wants to see me, but I don't see him around."

This wasn't going the way he expected and there was no way he could keep his cool.

Another grin on the man's face. "Never mind. Did I tell you he wants to see you, dead or alive? Oh man… I see I forgot that part of the message."

He started to hyperventilate. A bodybag.

"Get on your knees, ankles crossed. Hands on your head."

This... Callen didn't want this. This all went too fast, it came too unexpected. But it seemed there was no choice, no-one to stop it. No Sam. No back-up.  
Were they watching? 'Please don't'... had he been pleading? Or only silently, in his head? "Let'm go."

His words came out as a whisper, and his eyes widened now a gun was raised.

A split of a millisecond later, he recognized the small explosion. Within the same flash the bullet which exited hit his body and the force of it made him stagger. From farther away, he heard a scream. It was odd to register those things at this very moment, Callen thought.  
Two more shots sounded and he filed the sudden and excruciating pain and the limp feeling that came over him. So different from what he ever experienced. At that point, all his thoughts left as everything made way for a total darkness.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Torrance Beach || Paseo de la Playa || fifteen minutes later**

Eight heavily armed men waited until the petite young woman with the red hair let her eyes go over the familiar location. Nell let her hand go over her eyes, knowing she was the one to make a decision.  
Sure, she could've contact NCIS director Vance again, but he'd given her green lights already. The back-up team was all hers, and all she could do was to send them in. She didn't have to go in with them, or lead them. Yet, all of this situation gave her the creeps.

Callen's earlier call was unexpected and his message had scared her to death. From what she had expected, it would need an army to defeat an army. Now here they were, an arrival at a scene with no actors around.

Nothing. Only four cars, including the ones she recognized, from Deeks and Hetty. No voices, only silence, except from the beaches behind the gardens. She envied the happy families who were spending a splendid sunny morning near the ocean, unaware of the horror that came with her job and the jobs of the men who she worked with.

She let her hand go through her hair this time. For those who knew her well, the small gesture was a sign of her being on the brink of nerves.

Now, she became aware of the clock which was ticking and she was worried sick for the ones she cared for. "It's all too quiet in there," she said.

A short nod came from Thomas Gardener, the team leader. "We should go and check it out. You may go and wait in here." He gestured at his men, held up four fingers and motioned to the left where they should check the premises entering from the backside. Nell shook her head and got her gun ready. "I'll be going in with your men."

"Need to wait two minutes more. Let O'Shane and his men get into position first," Gardener explained. "Stay behind my last man."

Most people considered two minutes as quite a short period of time. Not Nell. To her, those two minutes felt like a lifetime.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading. As ever, a review is welcome!_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 **Mira**

* * *

Disclaimer: by now you all know that none of the characters of this storyline belong to me. Thank you, CBS, Shane Brennan and all of your marvelous team for letting us use them for fun purposes only.

A/N: So sorry for leaving you hanging in there, wanting to know more about what went on or what went wrong. There were some unfortunate delays, due to work related things…  
Hope it all won't disappoint! Thanks all for reading and all the very welcome reviews that were left. Especially those of the persons I cannot thank through the fanfiction page itself: Me, Linda and Skippy. Your reviews are very appreciated!  
Enjoy this one!

Kni®benrots

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Torrance Beach || Paseo de la Playa || fifteen minutes later**

Most people considered two minutes as quite a short period of time. Not Nell. To her, those two minutes felt like a lifetime.  
All kind of 'what-if's' came by. All she knew was that Eric was at home and Sam was mourning and spending time with his kids, somewhere at the eastcoast. She feared for everything that might have happened to all the others in her family, not those who were related to her by blood, but the ones she spend her days with. Too quiet around.  
By now, her hands were sweaty and the gun seemed to weigh at least ten k's.

Then, finally the team leader of the SWAT-team, Thomas Gardener, nodded to apparently nobody before he repeated the action, this time to the four men left and to Nell. "They're in position. Ready on my three." He made sure his fingers were seen by his men. With three fingers down, two men automatically passed him. An action they'd probably practiced many times. One trying the door, the other ready to kick it in, covering each other. The team leader and the last member waiting to bust in immediately behind them. The very same action was carried out on the backside of the house. In this situation, from what she saw, the front door was no problem. Either it was ajar, or these SWAT guys did magic in seconds — they were in within a blink of an eye.

For a short second Nell stood and wondered if she had the guts to follow the men in this far too quiet place. The 'clear' sounded twice - kitchen in the back and hallway in the front, she knew. Then, the moment she put her fears aside, she heard one of the team members shout 'in here!'

Not good, and she knew it.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Later that day**

The yellow police tape was affixed to keep the curious public away from what was a crime scene by now. Both Nell and Eric were aware of that, yet they were no ordinary public. True, the way they were dressed right now made them look far from the usual agents or police officers.

The flashed their badges nearly simultaneously. During an ordinary day, it would have made them giggle about it. Not today. They were serious, worried about what happened earlier. LAPD officer Adams nodded as he recognized the agency and combined it to their task to go through the premises once again.

"There should be footage from the driveway," Eric knew. He frowned, checked and motioned. He shook his head. "It's gone now.".

"They must have worked quite some time on this," Nell figured. "And Hetty never noticed, or else she would have told us. She would, wouldn't she?" Right now, Nell wasn't surprised about anything at all, not even for their handler to keep secrets for everyone else. She went on "Perhaps Jacob saw something, but he'll never be able to tell us no more. I wonder how Hetty will deal with it all."

Eric glanced at his partner. Of course, it was hard for her. After all, she was there when Deeks, Kensi, Hetty and Arkady were found. With them was Jacob, who passed away because he'd been shot. The others weren't dead, although Eric imagined how it must have appeared for Nell.  
Right now, all four of them were hospitalized with Arkady Kolcheck close to a respiratory arrest. Whatever had hit them must have been some kind of gas, a powerful and fast acting aerosol which got them out in a matter of seconds. And although Kensi and Deeks were up and alert already, their usual doctor at the hospital insisted they stayed in until the nausea passed. Hetty was worse off, probably because of her age, but she would pull through as well.

Eric patted Nell's arm. "First things first. Let's see what we can do in here, okay?"

She sent him a grateful smile. "I'm glad you're in here, with me, Beale. It's not something I want to do alone."  
She let some things unsaid, simply was scared to find proof of something she didn't want to believe. And so did Eric. Perhaps the forensic team who were around came up with some information about Callen.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Cedars-Sinai**

The smile Hetty sent to the whitehaired Russian was one of compassion. He'd come to see if there was anything he could do to help, and here he was. It had been a close call for Arkady Kolcheck.  
"I'd say that these men who did this to you weren't far from home. You agree, Arkady?"

He shook his head and drew in as much breath as he could before he removed the oxygen mask to reply. "Russians mobsters. Not from LA. Armenian perhaps." There was a short cough and he re-applied the mask.

The operations manager nodded several times. "Indeed, indeed…" She paused for a moment. "There's no word from Callen, Arkady. Nothing. Neither from any member of a Comescu." She left it in there as she did not feel like talking about the fear she had something had gone wrong.  
All she recalled was that she heard his voice and seconds before she inhaled this nasty gas there had been a shot, and Kensi who dealt with the same, shouting something. Not that it helped in anyone's situation, for what it was worth.

She took her phone and pressed a number. While she waited, her fingers fumbled with the sleeve of her jacket, which was less impeccable than anyone was used to. It did not matter. Not now.  
"Mr. Beale? I gather you and Miss Jones are checking anything that has to do with this, uhm, this case which considers the disappearance of Mr. Callen." She hardly heard what her technical analyst was telling, nor did she pay attention to the background noises. "See what you can find about Armenians working with—" She paused. Like Callen, Henrietta Lange had expected there were no Comescus left, yet somehow the men had introduced himself as acting on behalf of the crime family from Romania. Still, they had to make sure. "See what you and your systems can find about any Armenians, based in our country, doing whatever kind of business with Romanians in Europe, or, heaven forbid, somewhere in the States as well." She listened some seconds to how Eric told her he would do exactly as she asked, but later on.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

It was all dark around him. His brain registered it before there were so many other things that came up. How come he was alive while he remember he got shot, worse, that he bled and there were even more shots before the complete darkness set in?

This was different from what Callen went through before. For a while, he wondered whether or not he died indeed. But then, how could he when he was having thoughts and feelings.  
He hardly dared to try and move, but once he did, he writhed as flashes of pain went through the left part of his body.

He tried to examine his own body, but waves of nausea hit him once he tried and so he let it be, for the time being. Instead, Callen concentrated on his surroundings.

He realized that wherever he was right now — it wasn't any ordinary place. He was on some sort of mattress and on the road.

Now he became more and more aware of the shape he was in and his situation, it took Callen a few minutes before he finally figured out where he was. On the road and in a Motorhome. And he needed to get out, to find someone to help.

He breathed in as deep as he dared and got himself in a more upright position. But somehow, he failed. And somehow, his movements drew the attention of other people who were in the same vehicle.  
A male voice sounded "Make sure he'll be quiet for a while, Mira."

Callen braced himself for what was to come. In the darkness around him, which was changing into a dim light, a slender person entered the room he was in. No way there was a way out, not in his condition and not in this small room. There was a short puffing sound and a needle-sharp pain hit a spot on his upper leg. The minute he felt it, he knew it was a tranquilizer gun. It was useless fighting it, and slowly he sank away in the oblivion of unconsciousness.

* * *

 _Thank you all for reading. Please do let me know your thougths about this chapter!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 **Mira**

* * *

A/N: Thanks again for reading and reviewing! Again a special thank you to those persons I cannot respond to through the FanFiction page: Me, Linda and Skippy. Your reviews are very appreciated!

By the way, I am so sorry for not being able to upload any sooner. Writing about crime is so much easier than being confronted with it in real life, which in my case is purely work-related. Nevertheless, it kept me very busy these weeks :-(  
Another note: I'm using a very fictional address of the beach house of Hetty. Only in the most recent episode of the show I noticed it is very different from the one I use. However, I am not going to change it!

Enjoy this one!

Kni®benrots

Disclaimer: none of the characters of NCIS Los Angeles are mine. Storyline and all other characters however are made up in here.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Location & Destination || unknown**

By the time Callen opened his eyes again the whirring sound of the RV seemed to sound straight in his head. A feeling he had before. Not good, he knew. He licked his dry lips and grunted softly, while he rubbed his tired eyes with his right hand.  
Odd — although he was aware he'd been out quite some time, he was exhausted as well. A shiver went through his entire body and it made him all too concerned that he was in a bad shape.

Then he carefully let his hands go to the left side from where the pain was radiating through his body. He grunted loudly this time. Feeling with his hands he wasn't surprised by the sticky feeling of blood. But since he also could make the difference between the dried stains and the warmer sticky parts, Callen figured that somehow he moved and the bullet-wound was still fresh, but older than one would think. He remembered the impact of the bullet but also of two more shots, and the simple experience of losing consciousness. It happened again in here - he'd been tranquilized.

Again, he tried to get up to a more sitting position. He tried to ignore the waves of pain and it cost more exertion than he expected and after he managed, he also felt the too familiar warm blood slowly oozing down.

He carefully reached for the place where he expected an entry wound. Nothing. Somehow, the bullet settled in somewhere, and from what he knew of the human body, perhaps stopped by bone. Bone which should protect the inside. More specific, kidney, spleen and whatever was near.  
It hurt like hell. From too many years or field work, Callen was all too aware this wasn't the best situation, since bones might splinter and cause damage too.

Still, he was still alive, which was better than he'd envisioned when he was forced on his knees and expected to be shot to death in Hetty's backyard. Maybe there would be a way out sooner or later. He slapped his flat hand against the thin wall of what he now knew was the small bathroom in this motorhome.

"Hey, Vigo?" he shouted.

There was no response. Just the footsteps that came in his direction, and the vehicle wasn't stopping either.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Torrance Beach || Paseo de la Playa, 10 AM next day**

"They're still scanning the house for possible evidence", Nell had her phone near her ear as she explained what was going on to Kensi. Meanwhile she shrugged at her partner to which Eric shook his head. "But so far there's nothing we can work with. Nothing visible yet, I mean. But you know that things can rapidly change though."

There were several men and women around, all dressed in the particulate white jumpsuits from the forensic team. Nell Jones had high hopes that they would come up with a simple piece of evidence, one like they mostly had at the office before the team even started to work with. So far, there were no ID-cards, no dead bodies except of Hetty's personal assistant Jacob.

What she did have, or actually, what she was dealing with now was a senior agent missing in action, maybe dead. She didn't want to think about that fact may be real. But then, nobody expected the tragedy Sam had gone through either — the unexpected things in life getting real, finding his wife but only after she died. They'd all been there, saw how cruel life and this job could be.  
'Not now', she corrected her own thinking. Working on a case like this would be prohibited if director Vance had a saying in it, Nell knew. Too personal. But when she contacted him a while ago, Vance had realized too that there was no other choice but to go on right now.

So she needed to concentrate on what she could do, with the help of the persons around. But deep down, she wished she had Sam around. His experience, the way he coached her... Then, the same went for Kensi and Deeks. And Callen, oh Callen. She sighed deeply.  
Here she was with her partner Eric Beale. Inexperienced when it came to working in the field. Well, she had to work with him like she was used to.

She continued talking to Kensi now, after this short pause. "We'll keep you all posted. Of course. If there's anything you do remember…"

She listened to her friend, nodded and ended the call. Then she turned to Eric. "It won't be too long before Kensi and Deeks are allowed to leave the hospital. So far, there's nothing they can help with."

Eric glanced at his watch. "You think there's anything… anything particular in here we will find out anyway? I mean… We could ask those guys in here to inform us the minute they'll find something we can use as a lead, right?"

She nodded in agreement and sighed deeply as she let her gaze go over the team of forensics that was checking nearly every single inch of the property. Actually, she and Eric were just intruders. "Guess you're right Eric."

He turned and left the house, followed by Nell. Once outside, she wondered "You think we should let Sam know? I mean—"  
She did not finish her sentence and figured Eric would understand what she meant. For a while, he paused. His face more serious than she was used to as he scanned the house and the driveway again. Then he replied "There's nothing Sam can do, can he? He's freaking needing his time to grieve for the loss of Michelle. His kids need him, they're somewhere in Florida. As long as we don't have anything to work with, we'd better leave it like that."

Again, Nell nodded. There were the unspoken words again. Of course, as long as they didn't have a clue… as long as they didn't know what really happened, it was useless to worry their friend.

Slowly, the two of them walked the driveway back to their car, and just before they were to take off, there was the knock on the passengers door. Eric looked up to the red face of LAPD agent Adams, who clearly had been running since he was panting when he asked "Agent Jones?"  
Eric shook his head and pointed at Nell with his left thumb. "That'll be my partner in here. What's up?" he then asked.

The man shrugged "These white guys… there's a couple of them in the garden too. Looks like they found something interesting and well, I thought you might want to know."  
Nell pursed her lips, knowing it could mean some bad news. Then she took the keys from the contact and got out of the bright red Mini Cooper in a swift move. "Let's go and have a look…"

Although there was no real need to hurry, the three of them were in the backyard faster than usual. By then, there were three members of the forensic team. One of them stood with the small yellow signs in his hand, the ones they mostly watched on screen when they marked shell cases on a street.  
Another sat on his knee near to a marker and carefully making a picture of something he must have found.

"Careful now, you two." The third man intervened their immediate pace to the man with the camera. "You don't want to destroy any evidence in here." He pointed at something right in front of them. "If you watch your steps, I will explain what I think I see in here."

"Of course." Nell understood, narrowing her eyes.

"Roy in here saw this," the third man said. He'd taken of the hood of the white suit he was wearing, and pulled off the mouth-piece as well. With his flat hand he pointed out a trace in the grass which was at a different level than the rest. "Something heavy was in here. Something which left no other traces than this."

"What do you think it is?" Eric asked.

The man shrugged and explained "Cloth. Or plastic perhaps. We need to examine it more carefully, see if there's any significant texture we can find."

"But why?" Nell asked. "I mean… whatever material it is, I can see where you're going to. The heavy 'thing' you are talking about is most probable the body of my team leader. And he was dragged away to we don't know where..." She paused, unable to hide the slight tremor in her voice. "And we don't know if he's.. if he's alive or not."

Eric came closer, hearing how difficult it was for Nell to think clearly.

"Ma'am?" the officer from behind them now spoke. "Perhaps you're right. Perhaps you're not. There's this what we found." He got up, the camera-cord around his neck and switching it to the play-mode. Then he showed them a picture of an empty case. "No bullets?" Eric asked.  
The other man shook his head. "Nothing."

"But… But my colleague swears she heard three shots. So what—" Nell's words were interrupted by the man's faint smile on his face and his words that followed "There's this too." From where they stood, he pointed towards the second marker in the yard. "There's this". He showed the picture on his camera, but it was clear to see it lying now too. "A dart?" Eric was unable to hide his surprise.

"That's right. We come across those every now and then. They're used with cattle, most of the time. That's what they're they supposed to use for, anyway. Or in a zoo, or to tranquilize wildlife. Unless the owner of this property has any of those around, I'd say this was used very recently."

"Ah…" Eric nodded, several times in a row. "I get it. It… Well, it's no bad news, is it?"

"Not bad at all," Nell agreed. "Thank you. Please do keep us posted." She handed the man her card and hoped to hear more of news like this. At least, it was a clue, albeit it very small one.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Callen braced himself, not knowing what to expect this time. For all he knew, there would be a dart coming his way to knock him out in no-time. He couldn't tell what day it was and how long he'd been out instead of awake, nor where they were and how far from Los Angeles they were right now.

This time, a man opened the door, a tranquilizer gun in his right hand. Somehow, he did not seem to aim it all too convinced at Callen.

"There's no use to call Vigo, because he's not here," the man said. "He's waiting for our arrival though. But you need to shut up. Crooks like you need to go to prison. Vigo will take care of that."

It sounded so absurd that Callen let out a chuckle, despite of this situation. "Wait… what did you say?"

This time, the hand with the gun was raised just a little, and the young man rested his right hand on his left, ready to shoot it.

"No, wait," Callen said, his voice lower now. "Wait… Really, I am a federal agent. I can show you. Whatever you were told, it is not true."

The man shook his head. "You're just trying to fool me."

"No. No, I don't. I can show—" Callen tried again, but his explanation was interrupted by a loud yell that came from the front of the motorhome  
"Tomas?! No discussing in there, and no talking. Make him shut up and come back in here!" It came like an order and the man called Thomas clenched his jaw and like in a slow-motion Callen noticed how the other man's index finger finally did the job. A small arrow hit his arm and its contents quickly spread through his body. He licked his lips and although everything was feeling rubbery and his vision blurred in no time, he managed to repeat, less coherent and slurring this time "Ima fedral azzjent."

However, Callen did not notice the frown on the other man's face right before he closed the door, since he was out already.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **NCIS Office of Special Projects (OSP) || two hours later**

"Are you sure she asked you to do this?" Nell wanted to know from her co-worker. Opposite of when she was entering Hetty's place Nell was feeling much more self-assured. She leaned back in the high chair behind the desk and watched how Eric let his fingers go over the keys of his laptop. He defined several searches faster than she could. "I mean… Why Armenian?"

His fingers still on the keyboard, Eric shrugged slightly and replied "Hetty wasn't too specific. She just asked."

"Uh. Well, she didn't ask me."

Now Eric stopped typing and swiveled his chair so he could face her. "She didn't call you or asked for you, did she?" He turned to his screen again and added "Just saying."

"It was something Arkady mentioned". Kensi overheard her two team-members the moment she entered the Ops room through the open sliding doors.

With a bright smile on her face, Nell welcomed the two junior agents. "You're back! It's so good to see you. How're you doing?" Her gaze jumped from Kensi to Deeks and there wasn't anything specific which made her doubt they weren't okay.

"It's amazing what some fresh air can do," Deeks said. "We're good. So, what have you got, Eric?"

Eric shook his head. "Nothing, yet. But now that you're here… If Arkady says it is about Armenian men, well, then it is. Although I don't doubt Hetty would make the distinction between all the languages and accents, but I figure Arkady knows even better. What I can do is try and find some of the earlier convicted in or around Los Angeles. Perhaps the two of you can go through pictures, see if there's anyone you recognize?"

"Perfect!" Deeks said.  
Although his day had started off too early yesterday and with an outcome that was different from what he and Kensi envisioned, Deeks was glad to be able to do something, albeit not too active. He knew they needed something more to hold on to, since there still was no sign of Callen, of a dead body or any traces to a Comescu. That was all he knew. The sooner they could find a figurative needle in a haystack, the better.  
Well, that was what he thought right now.

* * *

 _Thank you for reading!_


	7. Chapter 7

**Mira,**

 **Chapter 7**

* * *

Again, thank you all so much for reading and leaving your reviews! Hopefully, this chapter will reveal something more on why Callen is where he is… Thanks for all your support!  
Kni®benrots

 _Disclaimer:_ none of the characters of NCIS Los Angeles are mine. Storyline and all other characters however are made up in here. If there's anything or anyone you'd recognize: that's all coincidental!

* * *

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Location & Destination || unknown**

There was no way Callen could tell how long they had been on the road, nor where they were. He was thirsty, very thirsty. Then again, he never felt he needed to pass water.  
Feverish… It wasn't a surprise at all. After all, with his clothes covering the wound and a bullet which most probably found a place in a bone – so he figured – too many bacteria could have entered his body by now. A Tylenol might help, although for a short moment only.

He was no longer in a driving vehicle. In fact, there was nothing which sounded like a car or whatsoever. All Callen heard were the nervous whispers of a man and a woman. From the small room he half laid, half sat in, he could even notice the daylight.

For a moment he stretched his body that had been immobile for God knew how long, but doing so the pain raged through his body in a way that made him scream out loud. So unlike his usual self he shivered and tried to even his breath in a way which didn't hurt. When he finally thought he managed, he noticed how the same blond haired man as before looked down at him with a frown between his heavy and dark brows. Again, he carried a gun which he loosely held. Ready to use it.

Callen shook his head. "Please... don't. Wait."

This time it was the woman who spoke. So far, Callen had only heard her voice and saw the contours of her body. Mira was her name, like he remembered Tomas was the name of the man.  
"Tomas says you ask for Vigo. What do you mean, we should wait?"  
He tried to breath as calmly as possible so the pain would dull to a way he handle it. For a short moment, he observed them both. He figured they were only a little younger than he was himself. Perhaps a couple, lovers.

"Some things I want to know." He tried to wet his dry lips. "If Vigo wants to talk to me, sooner or later, I'd need something to drink. Fresh water, perhaps, and a Tylenol. A first aid kit is welcome too."

She observed him a while. "How's that?"

In a way, the way she watched him made him nervous yet he answered "Your man shot me, back in LA."  
Some kind of smirk appeared on her face. "Not my man. And by the way, his name is Dario and he'll be back in about fifteen minutes."

He imitated the smirk, feeling weak and tired nevertheless. "If he's not your man, you could let me go."

Her clear blue eyes rested on his face, as if she tried to read his position and condition. "Tomas says you told him you are a federal agent."

"Yes. I can show you." With his right hand he reached for the pocket of his jeans, slowly and with his eyes never leaving the man's hand with the gun. "My badge."  
He handed it to her and she read out loud 'special agent G. Callen. Naval Criminal Investigative Service'.  
She lowered her arm and rubbed her eyes for a moment before she spoke again. This movement, her behavior; it looked so familiar, yet Callen could not place it.  
"It sure looks real." Then she handed it to the man next to her. "You should have said so. I mean… this Vigo, your uncle, told you he's on the wrong side of the law and promised you the reward when you bring him in. I can't believe he fooled you like that."

"He showed me a leaflet which mentioned so. Must have been fake," Tomas brought forward.

This time, she turned to her partner. "See if you can find what he needs." It sounded like an order, and Callen wondered what their relationship looked like. "There's no way we can let you go, of course. After all, you look like shit and I really don't think you'd even be able to walk away from here if you wanted to."

Callen slowly and carefully got up on his feet, grateful for the wall behind his back. He tried to hide his pain but in the end he hissed as he was unable to do so. He ignored her remark and said "Now, you got some water and iodine, please? A blanket, Tylenol. There's no need to repeat it. If there's any way you can help me, I'd be grateful."

This time, she watched him and while she turned to Tomas, she send him a smile. Again, it looked familiar and he wondered if he'd seen her before but he could not remember.  
"Got what we need, Tomas?"  
A confirming sound came from the next room and then she addressed Callen once again. "Helping isn't the problem in here. This is my home, for the time being, and I'd be a bad host if I'd refuse." Again, she smiled.

He had to know. "Have we met before?"

"Not that I know of. Why?" This time, she raised her brows and shook her head. "Because from what you know of me so far, that — Crap, you don't think that I am—"  
Again, she halted halfway a sentence, now folding her arms and staring at him like he would do himself.  
"Like I said, this is my motorhome. Tomas' sister and I went to college together, and when he asked for my assistance I figured 'why not'. He practically was ordered by an uncle of his. And this Dario… well. I don't know him. He joined Tomas. He must be related to that uncle as well. And that uncle, Vigo… you seem to know him?"  
Her clear blue eyes rested on his face, unsure because after all she explained, Callen didn't respond at all. Then she continued "Actually, right now I do feel so… so foolish. I mean, there's no law enforcement I'd know in here that works this way."

He sighed. "You'd better let me go. Help me get out of this vehicle so I can leave. You should do the same. Go and get away while you can."

She shook her head several times. "If I were you, I wouldn't consider that. You wouldn't survive, mister Callen."

He tried again, the calm way because he simply lacked the energy to discuss this at all. "Listen, Mira," Callen said, tasting the name and trying to remember if he'd ever heard it before. He inwardly scratched it out. The name never rang a bell at all. "Listen, right now you are dealing with a felony and you're involved in a serious crime. Which means you can go to jail once somebody finds out. If I were you, I would get out and get away, far from staying in this situation you've gotten yourself in at this moment. And please, don't mind about me surviving or not outside the vehicle. Once Vigo Comescu and I meet, I'm afraid I won't survive anyway."

"Anything you want to share?"

He slowly shook his head. "No need to. It's… complicated." Somehow he felt sorry for this woman. She simply had made a wrong decision. Naïve, perhaps.

Then Tomas entered again, carrying two bottles of water and a small orange box.

"Thanks man." Callen gratefully took the items and put them on the small sink. Wobblier than he thought he'd be, he opened the cap of one of the bottles and drank some mouthfuls. He ignored the two people as he carefully pulled up his shirt until the part that stuck to his body. He poured some of the water over the cloth and kept his breath, bit his lower lip while he finally had the guts to tear away the last bit of cloth. The wound started to bleed again immediately, but by now he had fresh and clean water, and a clean kitchen towel. The moment he saw the bleeding was more or less done, he put some iodine on a small piece of gauze, and covered it with more bandages.

Callen slowly let his breath escape through his nose and wondered if he'd kept his breath all the time. None of his audience of two had spoken during the process he'd taught himself during some undercover actions in the past. However, the movement itself had worn him out and he leant back.

"Will you let me go now?"

"You're not in the right condition to go. Maybe there's another—"

Her words however were interrupted by those of the man, Tomas, who addressed him. "You're not supposed to go anywhere. Mira, I thought we made a deal."

"You made a deal, with your uncle. All you did was ask for my cooperation. We can't do this, Tomas, we can't go on. He's a cop. We're risking a—"

"I know what risk I am taking. It is a deal." His words were harsh. Then he turned and took the small tranquilizer gun again and before Callen knew it, another of the smallest needles hit his upper arm.

It was the apologizing look that Mira sent him that he recognized from a long, long time ago. Too soon though, he lost every memory as he sank back in another oblivious period.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **NCIS Office of Special Projects (OSP) **

He hummed several times as he rewound and played a part of the traffic video again. "At least it's worth the try."

Nell glanced at her partner and to the screen in front of him. "Try what?"

Eric pointed at the traffic which was on screen. "Since we don't have anything from the street where Hetty lives, I'll try this footage as well. In here you simply see traffic driving past the parking of this small supermarket."

Nell nodded, glad there was some kind of clue they could follow for the time being.  
So far, they'd noticed a few cars with no number plates and it had been impossible so far to have them caught with Kaleidoscope. Except for one we've tried so far. With the timetable Eric and Nell had received from Kensi and Deeks, they had figured from which places cars could have been in the street. But it was only a bunch of hunches. Like there was one car they followed with a chain of cameras which Eric hacked. Although there were no number plates they could track, the car was different. Bright red, a remarkable dent. And a sticker mentioning 'CarDelMar!'. They should be able to find out if it had anything to do with the persons who had been kept Kensi, Deeks, Hetty and Arkady locked up for the time being.

It would only take some time, precious time.

Now, Eric had turned his attention to a large motorhome. "It must have hit the street minutes after…" He still had difficulties with the situation.

Nell sat back in her chair, her gaze at the screen instead of at her partner while she mentioned what he could not. "After Callen was shot and he, or his body, was taken. You know Eric, since we simply cannot work with a thought so dark, that I simply refuse to think he won't be back with us. So… Perhaps we should focus on both of those cars."

"I'd better let Deeks and Kensi visit CarDelMar and see if they can find out if there is any connection. Armenian, right? Or Romanian."

She hummed a confirmation.

"And this motorhome? Let's see what the systems can find about its owner then."

* * *

 _Thanks, as ever, for reading. Your reviews are very welcome!_


	8. Chapter 8

**Mira**

 **Chapter 8**

* * *

 **A/N** I sure hope that those who found the previous chapter too confusing, will understand what is going on!  
Still, thank you so much for sharing your thoughts again, Skippy, Guest, Linda, Mulderette, countrygirluk56, JaniceS, Wotumba1, BlackBear53, Nat z29. To everyone who is reading but is too shy to leave a message: please try ?

Adding a personal note: I haven't been in the best mood for writing lately since a dear friend of mine decided to end her life very unexpectedly… In fact, I had 3 funerals and a wedding in four days, which sucks. Next to that, we've redecorated a student room and moved out our oldest son. Busy indeed!

* * *

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **NCIS Office of Special Projects (OSP)**

Eric let out a short giggle. His nerves found a way out, that way, and he didn't really care. He uttered his opinion to his daily partner.  
"It sure is a large truck. Reminds me of the one Sam lived in recently. I mean… look at it. I bet you and your sisters can easily travel in it, even for a few weeks. With all the fiancés, husbands and friends, if necessary."

Nell nodded, Eric was right. "Perhaps it's just some tourists who enjoyed a couple of days near the beach. But then, it should be so easy to find out."

A short ping sounded, which meant an incoming call. A small block popped up on their screens: Kensi. Nell tapped her in-ear headset. "Yeah Kens, what's up?"

"Nell, about that rental? We're at 'CarDelMar' and had the employee studying the picture which Eric sent us. There's no number plate, but they're working on it. We should hear within ten minutes, 'round and about. Any news from your side?"

Nell shook her head and commented "Nothing really. We're checking another possible lead, but there's nothing we work with right now. No identification whatsoever." She quickly added "Yet."  
After all, with everything they had, it wouldn't take long before they would know more about the owner. And even if it was all about a family, it would be clear that it was leading to nothing.

"Just let us know if anything changes," Kensi suggested.

Nell nodded while she replied. "Will do so. Same goes for you, of course." After a confirmation from Kensi, Nell then disconnected the call and hoped that there was a real lead coming soon.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Location & Destination || unknown**

Once Callen gained consciousness again, things had changed. He felt about the same; still feverish. Weak, although he would never admit that to anyone he knew.  
And he was in the same cramped room. But right now, his hands were tied in front of him, and who-ever was responsible for it did a thorough job. The RV probably was at the same plot as before. It still was quiet and by the way the light came in Callen estimated a near two hours passed.

Unwillingly, he coughed and within the minute, Tomas stood in the door opening. There was a faint smile on his face and Callen now remembered that Vigo Comescu was an uncle of this man. And although he did not know if they shared the same blood, it certainly meant that Tomas must have known about the plans of Comescu all the time.

"Any chance you'll have another bottle of water and a Tylenol?" Callen looked up at the man's face. All he met was a weird grin. "Try the faucet behind you. If you're really thirsty you can do it."

He then turned around, ready to leave.

"How about Mira to bring something over?" Callen tried.

"She's asleep," Tomas answered. "Besides, she is not in a position to be of any help. And even if she was, the answer would be 'no'."

He sighed heavily, grimacing though when he realized that while he did, he knew why he wanted the Tylenol or something stronger indeed.  
"No as in she won't help or no as in she can't help?" Callen insisted.

"It doesn't matter! You don't want to wake the baby, do you?"

Something in the words triggered Callen. Sure, he must have heard these words before. _"You don't want to wake the baby, do you?"  
_ Mentally, he shook his head. He actually knew for sure someone very dear spoke them. Flashbacks of a very small, white wicker crib, a soft pink blanket. The soft and sweet sing song voice of the dark haired woman who let her hands go through the blond hair of the young boy he once was… Callen closed his eyes, trying to hold on to this sweet memory.  
Actually, he wanted to give it a thought without talking.

But Tomas now started snarling. "Just take a 'no' for your answer and stop asking. Your choice. I can put you to sleep, again, if you don't just shut up."

He felt like hell and perhaps it was the most preferable situation to shut up indeed. But Callen figured that for once, he needed to stay awake and think of some kind of plan to get away. Somehow, it appeared to him that he would soon need that and he . For now, he did not trust Tomas, and he had no further interest in meeting the other man, Dario, either.

He decided to give it one more try. "Tell me, Tomas, where are we heading to?"

The reply came as a too childish chuckle from the other man. "We? We? Let me tell you, there may be no 'we' when you think we want to include you. I know where I am going to though."  
Tomas paused and let his gaze go over Callen's posture as if he doubted it was save enough to tell this special agent. However, he felt self-assured right now as he had grown into a position as the second in charge in this vehicle. And after all, he had the Comescu-blood running through his veins. And as his uncle, Vigo Comescu, had assured him: the man opposite of him was guilty of killing the Comescu some years ago in Romania. This man. G. Callen, named after his grandfather. At least, that is what Vigo figured out so far. And so, G. Callen would meet Vigo Comescu very, very soon. Therefore, it was no problem at all telling the man which plans he had.  
"I'm going back to Chicago, mister Callen. Home to the few Comescus that are left."

He nodded, glad that Tomas was less aggressive now and more talkative. "But we're parked in this spot for a few hours, right?"

This time, there was another grimace from the other man. "How'd you know?"

Callen shrugged, immediately feeling sorry for the movement. "The smells. The sounds. Or rather, the lack of them. It's nearly too quiet."

"Yet, and just imagine, this is Manhattan, man. Man-hat-tan!" Again, Tomas started chuckling. This time, he still did and he left the door open long enough for Callen to have a glimpse of Mira who lay on the lowest one of a bunk bed, opposite of the small room he was in. Her dark hair, nearly black, was loose now and Callen finally got the whole picture.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **NCIS Office of Special Projects (OSP) **

One of the familiar pings sounded in the Ops, which meant that somewhere there was a hit.

"Oh boy… Did not expect this." Eric studied his information and shook his head. "I was thinking — how come our systems never picket this up?"  
He noticed how his partner gazed at the screen of the computer he was working on and so he made the message that he just read visible on the large screen. He swiveled his chair until he faced Nell.  
"This. Chicago O'Hare international had two – yes, really, two! – Romanian men entering last week. Nothing wrong with that but… oh boy," Eric repeated as he shook his head and enlarged the passport pictures even more. "Two Comescus. Look at this Nell. This is serious trouble."

She'd narrowed her hazel eyes and agreed. "Double trouble. How come we haven't seen this before? I mean… If Callen had known, or Hetty, we would have taken some precautions. Right?" She hopped off the high stool and paced from the computer-desk to the screen and back. "So, we've got a Tomas Comescu, aged 45." She tipped her head to her partner. "Born in Jurilavca, Romania and moved to study in Cluj," she read. Nell turned to Eric and added with a shrug "Most young Romanian do so. The average age of the citizens of Cljuj is 35, did you know that? Anyway… He studied Anglo-Saxon History and Culture, which is rather innocent, don't you think? Part of his study though was in London. He actually could go for a regular all American chap, if you'd ask me. The only thing that stands out is his name. And traveling on a foreign passport of course."

"The other one is older. Much older," Eric noticed.

Nell mumbled a confirmation. "1961, so the guy is… 56 years old right now. Vigo Alexandru Comescu. Considering his age, he may just as well be 'the' Comescu. Although…" she sighed deeply and moved her gaze to Eric once more. "How come the team missed these two names? I mean… Even Hetty mentioned that all of them were gone. Either with the raid in Romania itself, or later, here in Los Angeles. No-one survived, but apparently we were wrong all the time. There were the connections with the secret service of Romania, with the police, with the inhabitants of the town were the family-house is. But somehow, nobody came up with these two. Which I really don't get, Eric."

"What if…" He was silent for a beat, then let his fingers go over the keys in front of him. He nodded several times before his 'Bingo' sounded. "This Vigo wasn't in the United States nor in Romania by the time we've checked in either country. He spent years in Hrazdan, Armenia, y'see?" As some kind of proof data appeared on the wall filling screen. "From 1998 until late 2015. Three months back in Romania and back to Armenia. Which may be the very connection Hetty meant between Armenian and certain Romanians," Eric concluded.

"Still, we don't know where to find them at this very moment, do we?" Nell sighed. She sat down behind her own terminal and continued "Despite all these details, we don't have anything yet. Let's focus on credit card use, hotels, car rentals…"  
In unison they started to tap their keyboards.

* * *

 _Thank you all for reading. As ever, a review is very welcome!_

Kni®benrots


	9. Chapter 9

**Mira, chapter 9**

* * *

 _Thank you so much, again, for all your kind words, and for taking the time to read and leave a review to the previous chapter. It's much appreciated!_

Disclaimer: by now you all know that none of the original NCIS LA characters of this story belong to me. Thank you, CBS, Shane Brennan and all of your marvelous team for letting us use them. All the other characters are made up by me, as is the storyline itself. And well, if there is any resemblance to anyone you know – that is purely coincidental.

* * *

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **NCIS Office of Special Projects (OSP) **

Nell and Eric each focused on the two Comescus they just found out about, working concentrated. After some silent minutes, Eric turned his attention from the search definitions he had entered to his partner. "You think it is as simple as that, Nell? Finding the Comescus and finding Callen at the same spot?"

Nell stared at her screen for a few seconds before she replied. "No, it won't be simple. Once they're at the same location, we'll be too late. Which means we'll have to be one step ahead, all of the time. But with this scheme of us, right now we are at least one step behind."

Eric nodded, unconsciously pushing his glasses up several times. "We are, Nell. I don't like it a bit. It's not only 'just one step'. It's about what, six hours and a lot of 'what-ifs' behind. We're in need of extra hands, Nell. You think you should ask—"

Before he could finish his sentence the sliding doors to their office opened and much to their surprise, Hetty entered.

"Hetty! I did not expect you in here already," Eric spoke in surprise. "We were just wondering if… who we could call for some assistance."

The older woman pursed her lips slightly before she took one of the stools next to the table with the interactive screen and set down. "Well, Mr. Beale… Before I am to answer to your question, please do feel free to brief me about the latest developments."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Motorhome || Manhattan, Kansas**

Callen sighed deeply. So far he wasn't feeling better than before. But it did not matter, he thought. Feeling sick and feeble was better than being dead or waiting to be killed, he figured. So he needed to get out, no matter the struggle and the pain.

For now he understood that either Dario or Tomas had decided to prohibit that Mira was interfering too much with their business for the time being. They probably used the same stuff to sedate her. It could mean that they did it knowingly because they lost their trust in Mira.  
On the other hand, Callen supposed they just used her. Mira had explained how she owned this motorhome, and Tomas' sister had been one of her friends in the past. He hypothesized that perhaps they linked Mira to something of the past, and because of that, or because she was a witness, she was in danger just as much as he was.

It didn't matter. He knew there was something more he wanted to know from this woman, something he felt he needed to know. More than she would be able to tell him in here.

So, Callen needed to get away and take her with him. Which meant he had to work fast and quietly.

The roof porthole was too high and too small as well. Looking up, he figured it was in the late afternoon. There was no use to simply try the door handle, since there was none. Tomas, or more probable Dario, had taken care of disassemble it, together with the usual inside door lock. With his hands tied, Callen was less handy than MacGyver and more important, certainly not in the best condition at all.

He looked around in the smallest bathroom he remembered he'd ever seen. The toilet he used. The small basin with a tiny cabinet underneath it.  
Her motorhome… which should mean there would be some typical female toiletries he might be able to use to try and open the lock from the inside. He opened the cabinet and more or less to his surprise, he found what he wanted to find – the right tool, a nail file. Callen nodded to himself, this was what he needed.

'If you want any water, use the faucet'… He opened the tap and hoped the sound of the water splashing into the basin would be enough to hide the noises he was about to make with the file. Still sitting on the floor, now leaning against the toilet, Callen started to work.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **NCIS Office of Special Projects (OSP) **

"Well…" Eric said, not sure how or where to start. Instead he asked "So, how're you doing Hetty?"

She just nodded as an 'okay' before she raised her brows slightly and repeated "What is there, Mr. Beale, you can tell me that went on during the time I was so unfortunate to be not around? And before you ask, Mr. Kolcheck will be discharged from the hospital tomorrow as well."

"Right. Well… I did what you wanted me to do. Find a connection between Armenians and, uh, inhabitants of Romania. And I did. But it's bad, Hetty. Where you all assumed there were none of the Comescu family left, Nell and I found two of them."  
He paused while he re-opened the file and swiped it from his hand held tablet straight to the large screen and explained. "Those two. Tomas Comescu and Vigo Comescu. Whereas the first must have been outside Romania when you last checked, he's been in and out different places all around the world. Vigo Comescu on the other hand is much older. And there's the connection – he's been living in Armenia for quite some time."  
Eric turned to Hetty again and concluded "Like I said, it's bad, Hetty."

"I see, Mr. Beale. I see."

Nell now felt she could add to Eric's explanation. "What Eric forgets to mention is that we discovered that both Comescus entered the US soil earlier this week, in Chicago as a matter of fact. So, we're trying to find them as we speak. So far, there's nothing to hold on to. But we figured that once we know where this Vigo and Tomas are, we will also know we can find Callen through them. Although—" She ended her sentence, then decided she should go on to say "We need to one step ahead. But then, we don't know which step, yet."

Again, Hetty simply stated "I see… I see."

The three of them fell silent for what seemed to last minutes. Then, when Eric inhaled and wanted to ask Hetty if she thought she was alright like she said, the buzzing of the landline phone on the desk sounded. And whereas Eric himself or Nell were supposed to be the ones to answer it, this time Hetty took the receiver.

"Miss Blye," she said as she heard Kensi speaking. "What is it you want to share with me?"  
For both Nell and Eric there was no way to catch Kensi's message. There was the reply of Hetty though. "Aram Demirchian?" she asked. "Please spell the family name for me." She nodded several times. "I get that, Miss Blye. Now, I suggest that you and mister Deeks hurry back in here." There was another short interval but then Hetty said "Yes, I am, Miss Blye. So, no matter what your partner happened to mention, and remind you, I díd overhear his remark about 'being ordered around again', I do suggest that we have a teamwise meeting as soon as possible." She shook her head several times and sighed deeply. "I see…" she then muttered.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Half an hour later, Deeks and Kensi stood next to each other, leaning over the interactive table top in the ops room. "Nope, nope, nope," Deeks repeatedly stated as pictures came and went. Hetty had ordered them to go through pictures of any persons who had once been convicted and who had Eastern European or Russian ancestors and try to find if there were any familiar faces among them.  
He then whispered "Fern… You think she's alright indeed?"

Deeks was sure that Kensi understood what he meant. Kensi twitched and pursed her lips before she replied in a low voice "It must be hard for her, losing anyone so close to her. Still… She's the same Hetty, right? Not really showing if or how a situation affects her. I mean…" she sighed deeply and looked into the blue eyes of her partner which mirrored her worries. "It is Callen we're talking about, Deeks. And you and I know there's more in the bond between Callen and Hetty than we know of."

Deeks nodded. Then he let the 'nopes' continue until he abruptly stopped.  
"You got one you recognize?" Kensi curiously looked up.

"Nope," Deeks answered. "Hey, Nell? What happened to the other possible lead you had? You know, the one you told Kensi about?"

A slight blush appeared on Nell's face. "Oh, crap," she muttered as a reply.

"What?" Eric exclaimed. "Crap what, Nell? You mean…"

"Uhuh, Eric. That's what I mean." She opened another spread sheet on her screen and her fingers started hitting the keys in front of her. "On it… again." She looked up at her coworkers and explained "Once you came up with those Comescus, Eric, I simply let it go. But you're right, it's worth the try. We've been monitoring traffic which we expected to have left off within one to ten minutes after we think they took Callen's... uhm, they took Callen."

"But I thought Eric mentioned there was no footage?"

"That's right, Kensi. That's why I let some other options running, from other angles and traffic which came from about the same direction. And contrary from what you may think, there wasn't that much. Your lead was one, and we've checked another three cars which pulled off from the neighborhood. Those were dead leads, I can tell you. But there's this one other lead Nell is talking about, a large motorhome. Could be of tourists though who spent a night and morning near the shore. But—"

"It belongs to a certain M.C. Constanta." Nell blurted as an interruption. Her hazel eyes were wide now when she added "How's that for a Eastern European name?"

"Miss Jones? Could you please repeat that?" Hetty's voice came from the sliding doors, where she stood and overheard Nell's message.

"Off course, Hetty," Nell said. "Mirela C. Constanta. Constanta as in the name of the city in Romania," she added.

"Date of birth 15th of July 1974, place of birth Constanta, Romania." Deeks read aloud. "Well, I'd say that is a lead we should follow, right?"

* * *

 _Thanks again for reading. As ever, your thoughts about what you read are very welcome, so please do review!_


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

 **Mira**

* * *

Updating is quite a thing, but as I said before, life an get in the way. No need to explain, and I hope you will like this chapter as well. Again, thank you all so much for reading and leaving your reviews on the previous chapte. Hopefully, this chapter will reveal something more on why Callen is where he is… Thanks for all your support!

Kni®benrots

* * *

 _Disclaime_ _r: none of the characters of NCIS Los Angeles are mine. Storyline and all other characters however are mine._

* * *

Previously:

"Off course, Hetty," Nell said. "Mirela C. Constanta. Constanta as in the name of the city in Romania," she added.

"Date of birth 15th of July 1974, place of birth Constanta, Romania." Deeks read aloud. "Well, I'd say that is a lead we should follow, right?"

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Eric stared at the screen for a few seconds. "This woman is about the same age as one of the two Comescus, Tomas. He's 45 years old, uhm, and this miss Constanta is 43 at the moment. We don't know them, right? But well, they might be in a relationship of some sort."

"Could be," Nell agreed. "But in my opinion that is not a real issue we need to know of at this moment. Now, about the woman… As I said, on the driver's license it says that she is the owner of this large recreational vehicle. A motorhome." She sighed deeply. "And you are right, Deeks, it is a lead we should follow indeed, we really nééd to know of. For your information, doing a quick calculation, this RV has at least a full day of a head start."

"Which means it can be about anywhere," Kensi shook her head.

Some humming sounded from Eric and his fingers danced on the keys of his computer keyboard. "Considering a motorhome like this usually travels at a speed of about 80 miles at the most, anywhere is too far, Kensi. However…"  
A map appeared on the large screen, in which a circle was drawn around the city of Los Angeles.

"This is exactly what I meant," Kensi expressed her despair. "There's no way we can cover the area with a simple search. I mean… it covers nearly all the area between Vancouver Canada in the North and what, Durango in Mexico when you look at the South."

"Good heavens, Mr. Beale," Hetty sighed. "This truly is... what they call a mission impossible."

Different from the others, Eric shook his head in confidence. "I don't think so, Hetty. Because when we combine this with what we know so far, I think we can skip the North and South, and focus on the roads going East."

"East?" Deeks raised his brows. "Why East?"

Again, Eric hummed. This time, Nell did the same.  
"It may be the best option, and the most logical too. Imagine being one of those two Comescus. They flew in from Europe to Chicago O'Hare. But somehow, I expect they were afraid we'd catch them. Now, what if they're hiring a car. Heading West, somehow trying to meet the other group. The one of this Demirchian, Armenian, perhaps lead."

"Go on, Miss Jones," Hetty said.

"I'd say we find the shortest route from Los Angeles to Chicago. Figure out where'd they could meet."

Eric nodded, his fingers going their own way so it seemed.

"Anything you want to share Beale?" Deeks asked since he didn't have a clue what Eric was looking for.

"Checking," came as a reply. 'Traffic cams. Gas stations. Things like that. Now there's the route up North, through Utah and Colorado, via Denver. Or Southbound, via Albuquerque. Both ways, you'd end up using the Interstate 70 East as the most logical route. But we need the check both routes."

"Good thinking. Good thinking, Mr. Beale." Hetty shook her head, notwithstanding her words and the tiny steps the team could take, she also was aware that every hour counted. And many hours had past already.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Motorhome || Manhattan, Kansas**

It should have been an easy job and Callen had done things like this many times. This time it was different. Not only because he did not have the right tools or felt weaker than he was used to. Next to that, there was no Sam or Kensi working with him. No back-up this time. He was on his own for now.

All was quiet. Maybe too quiet, even with the sound of the running water. Callen was worried about the plans these guys had. Not for him. It was clear that once Vigo Comescu was to arrive, he had no chance to get away. However, with the younger man around, he needed to try and get away.

The worries weren't for himself. He wondered how well this guy Tomas knew Mira. Why she was unconscious right now, and who was responsible for it. He figured that it had to do with the fact that Mira understood that the things Callen had told the two of them, was true. At the same time, Tomas must've understood as well, but he did not mind. Which meant Tomas distrusted her, at this moment. Mira told that she had befriended Tomas' sister in the past.

Still working on trying to unlock the door, Callen weighed several scenarios. Maybe the woman was used, pure by coincidence and because she owned this unnoted motorhome. The other scenario was what scared him more.  
The tea-box on the mantelshelf at his house contained a few dear items. Callen had once taken the box itself from the office's coffee corner. He'd needed something which could contain some dear memories. One was the picture Hetty had once handed him. One of his mother, a dark haired woman with a beautiful smile.

Although he had been so young when she was killed, pictures of her popped up in his dreams far too much. Too many real life memories faded to something that could be fantasy just as well. But now, seeing the other woman, it was as in his dreams. The smile. But also some of the attitude, the poses. _'You do not want to wake the baby, do you?'_ How come he had forgotten those words? Forgotten what happened, like he had pushed away any memories of his early youth, Amy, his parents… and the baby?

…

 _"_ _But I don't want to go to the beach, mommy… I don't! Anton has a new car and we were going to play with it!"_

 _In a soft voice, his mother spoke to him. "Shttt, Grisha… hush now. We do not want to wake the baby, do we? Now, you see, Amy is coming and the two of you can play. And Mrs. Constanta will be there too. We have to be there, Grisha, because we're going to meet a very special friend on the beach as well."_

 _The young boy clenched his jaw and his clear blue eyes were angry when he looked up to her. "But you're all girls. You don't play, you just sit and talk. I want daddy to be there too. Or Anton."_

 _"_ _Not today, honey. You know daddy had to go away… for business." She sighed heavily. How could she tell her son that she was afraid his father would never return? That her husband had been betrayed months before and was taken to someplace she didn't know of? How could she explain to her children that they weren't safe where they were right now, because of her job? She should have fled months before, but not in the situation she was. Now that her youngest child was born and she wasn't that weak anymore, she finally dared to call her handler and ask her to come for her. It would only be a couple of hours until she was going to meet Henrietta Lange.  
"Not today, Grisha," she repeated. "We're all going to the beach. And with you being the man in the house, I think you can take care of all of us girls." She let her gaze go over her son, noticing how his behavior changed with these simple words. Then she looked away as she didn't want him to read her face, like he mostly did. He'd notice her fears, Clara knew for sure. She packed her bag and started to count down to the moment they could leave this place._

…

What if someone else had that Mira looked just like his mother? Comescus, for example.  
In silence, Callen worked faster. He knew there was hardly any time to discuss this with Mira.

Finally, there was the moment he heard the lock click back the way he wanted. He closed the faucet and with that gone, all he heard was some distance talking. Somebody making a phone call. Slowly and carefully, he opened the door.  
Tomas' voice: 'Two hours?'

Two hours to get away. He needed to hurry and count down to the moment he could leave this place. However in his condition, hurrying was not something that really fitted, and he was not too sure in which condition Mira was right now.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **NCIS Office of Special Projects (OSP) **

Deeks went through the last couple of pictures that had popped up on Nell's systems hours before. "Does it really matter whether or not we find anyone fitting the description we know of?" he said.

There was no-one responding and he looked up. "Anyone?" He rubbed his tired eyes and started muttering. "What are we doing in here? Kens? Anyone?"

Kensi stretched her back and leaned on the table, watching Nell and Eric who worked in unison but both in silence as well. She let out a heavy sigh. "I dunno Deeks. I mean, every minute should be counting, yet we're still here and we don't know where to be or how to go… there." She paused for a moment. "I wished there was something we could do. Something —"

Her thoughts were interrupted by a long but decent whistle and she turned to the information analyst. "What you got, Eric?"

Her younger co-worker smiled. "Got a hit, guys. A ranger claims he noticed a motorhome like this one yesterday, near a small bush near the Kansas river. It's on the countryside, rather far from the nearest highway. He ignored it, since every now and then people tend to use parkings and go out for long hikes. He imagined—"

"Facts, Eric. No storytelling. Is it this Constanta's vehicle?"

"Don't know, Deeks. Could be, if we consider the route I mentioned before is the one they'd take. Though it is a countryside road, the man said."

"Can you contact this ranger, see what he noticed?" Kensi suggested.

Eric nodded. "You think we need to warn Hetty too?"

"Hetty knows, Mr. Beale. Make that call." The older woman pursed her lips, then continued. "Oh, and Miss Jones? Would you mind making the arrangements for yours truly for a fast flight to the inlands of Kansas, dear?"

"Will do so, Hetty. But don't you think we need anyone else? I mean.. shouldn't Deeks and Kensi come with you?"

Hetty inhaled slowly and audible, then sighed as she quickly made a decision. "Yes dear. That will be it. I suppose we could be there within…"

"Three and a half hour. That is, if you can leave in ten minutes from now." Eric said.

A nod came from Hetty. "While we are on our way, please contact the FBI in Kansas City and make sure they have a team ready. See to it they will have the same information we have."

On that, she turned around, knowing the two agents were following.

* * *

 _Thanks again, for reading. Please do let me know your thoughts about this story. Any review works fine!_


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

 **Mira**

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 _A/N Really, thank you all for those reviews you've left! Just to let you know how much I appreciate your support: *wow* and I sure hope you will enjoy this chapter as well!_

Kni®benrots

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Disclaimer: by now you all know that none of the characters of this storyline belong to me. Thank you, CBS, R. Scott Gemmill, Shane Brennan and all of your marvelous team for letting us use them for fun purposes only.

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o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Motorhome || Manhattan, Kansas**

Callen needed a short second only to estimate the circumstances.  
The woman, Mira, still appeared to be in a sedated position. He had no idea how long this would last, as he still was unaware how much time it had taken himself to be fully awake after one of those shots himself.  
The single door out from the living space of the vehicle was closed, but the passenger's seat door was wide open. Hence the way he overheard Tomas' phone call.

He looked through the front. Lots of countryside, small bushes… Manhattan, Tomas had told him. He'd never been there and knew nothing about the place or its surroundings.

Leaving the scene unnoted would be quite a challenge, especially in his condition. Now he was in an upright position he noticed that breathing in was painful and he wondered how long he could go on walking, if and when he was able to escape. First of all, he needed to get rid of the zip ties that one of the men had applied. It was painful exercise even when one was in a mint condition. Right now it was a struggle he knew he had to get through. It took some effort, but then he finally succeeded and he let out a slow breath.

"Mira? Hey, Mira?" He kept his voice quiet and he gently shook her shoulder and he noticed she responded to it with some stirring and moaning, though she was not fully awoke.

He sighed, knowing that time wasn't on their side.

As quiet as he could possibly move around, he opened a drawer. No knives or scissors which Callen hoped he could've taken as a weapon.

Again, he heard Mira stirring behind him and he turned toward her. Too fast as it made him faint headed. He reached for a cupboard before he stumbled. "Hey," he tried again.  
In what appeared to be several minutes, but were actually seconds, she finally opened her eyes. "We need to get away from here, Mira. Soon."

Before she had the opportunity to reply, the entrance door was opened and Tomas entered. "What the…", he growled as he grabbed for the tranquilizer gun he carried. Again, he aimed it at Callen.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **NCIS Office of Special Projects (OSP) **

"So this Mirela C. Constanta was born in the city with the same name, Constanta. Sounds funny, don't you think?" Eric said. "Born on July 15, 1974." He kept typing his keyboard as he asked "Do you remember the date Hetty came for Callen and his mum and sister?"

A redhaired ponytail shook as a response. "It should be in the files, Eric. But then…" Nell started to look around, as if she expected to see Hetty any moment, even though she knew Hetty was on her way. She fell silent as well while scrolling through files of which she knew she should've asked permission, if Hetty were around. Now, she simply read what she thought what was necessary.

"September 18th, 1974. If you wanna know, about eight weeks after this Mirela was born."

Eric hummed as a response. After another pause he said "There's no father listed. Just..."

"Olga Constanta, who moved from Romania to the United States on October 4, same year, with this baby-girl," Nell read. She let her gaze go from the large screen and turned to her partner. "I wonder how common it was, to emigrate from a socialist country with ties to the former Sovjet Union, to the US?"

"What are you saying?" Eric asked, frowning.

Nell shrugged. "Just thinking. A woman with two small children, entering the States in September. Then, only some weeks later, another woman, traveling alone with a baby. Same airport in Romania, same airport in the US."

"You're thinking there might be any connections?"

She exhaled aloud, then shrugged once again. "Dunno. Right now, it should not matter, you think?"

Eric shook his head. "No really." He was counting down the time till Hetty, Deeks and Kensi would arrive at the regional airport in Manhattan, which was closest to the place that was indicated by the ranger who noticed the motorhome. "Still… Like tracing a recreation vehicle in the systems, I could run the mother through the systems as well. After all, what else can we do in the meantime," he said with a grin.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Motorhome || Manhattan, Kansas**

Whereas Callen expected to be hit by another small tranquilizer dart, nothing happened. In one way or another, the gun refused. And he realized it was now or never. He threw himself forward — the only movement which was possible in this cramped room, hoping the surprise of the attack would give him the upper hand and the possibility to get away.

Tomas must have noticed he was weaker than he wanted to show and before Callen knew, the butt of the gun was used as a weapon and Tomas knew exactly where to hit. Callen doubled up in pain as the ribs where he figured a bullet was stuck in, was hit once again and he shouted out in agony and stumbled to the floor. Now, Tomas' shoe hit his shoulder, causing him to groan aloud. All went dark for a moment.

Then, when he dared to breath in and open his eyes again, Tomas was on the floor next to him. First thing that came to his mind was 'Sam', but he immediately realized it was impossible. No way his partner was around. Moaning and groaning he got up to a seated position.

Callen blinked several times, then he finally made up that the object next to Tomas on the floor was a pancake pan.

Mira's voice sounded. "He'll be out, I guess. How do I tie his hands and feet so he won't bother us?"

"Zip ties. Should be somewhere around. He used them on me. Perhaps in a drawer?"

Mira started looking around, while Callen remained seated. For the time being it was the wisest thing to do, he figured. She finally had the nerves to check the pockets of Tomas' jacket where she found what she was looking for.  
"And now?" Her bright blue eyes rested on Callen's face.

He simply nodded and held up his hand. Then he simply acted as in a routine, strapping the ties and making sure Tomas wasn't in the condition to remove them for the time to come. It was just an estimated guess, since Callen knew Tomas wasn't the regular special agent or crook who handled cuffs too many times.  
"And now, we lock him up in the same place I was kept in. Could you, ehm, assist me, Mira?"

It was a real burden to drag the still immobile body of the other man to the small bathroom. Ever since the short fight, which actually wasn't a real fight, something inside his body had changed, and not for the better. Finally, he closed the door.

Then he turned to see what the jingling of something metal was.

"I got the keys. We can get away now"

He shook his head. "Forget it. Take the keys, only to lock every door from the outside. Then either take them or just throw them away, whatever you prefer."

"But we can leave. Just drive somewhere, back to safety." Mira said, not understanding his response. "I don't know who're behind you, not really, or why, neither why you are in such a hurry."

"I overheard Tomas. He was making a phone call in what seems like hours ago. The only thing he said was that within two hours, this guy Dario will be back and when he does, he'll be back with Vigo Comescu and a small army. And if you insist… Vigo Comescu probably is head of a crime family whose focus is to destroy the Callens. They won't let me live, Mira. And Dario and the rest will recognize this motorhome of yours. We won't know who we'll meet, nor where or when, but time is ticking."

"But perhaps we're over an hour ahead. Besides, I still don't think you're in no condition to—"

Callen interrupted. "We have to, Mira. They know we've used this RV. Your RV..." he said in a softer voice. He managed to stretch his back and shoulders but was unable to hide the grimace of pain on his face. "Perhaps we can find a car nearby. We can take that."  
He noticed how she still wasn't quite convinced, so he continued "I could leave now and do whatever is possible to escape from the Comescu family who is on its way no matter what. But then there's you. And although you worked with this guy Tomas, I also see there was enough distrust. Listen, Mira, leaving with me will be the best course of action for both of us. Besides, there are some questions I have. Questions which make me wonder how save you will be when you would decide to stay after all."

The hesitation made way for curiosity, but at least Callen sensed she was willing to join him.

"We're lucky it's getting dark already," he mentioned. "It'll be better to stay unseen that way."

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 _Thank you, once again for reading!_


	12. Chapter 12

**Mira, chapter 12**

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A/N: As ever, I am so grateful for all those lovely reviews you've left with the latest chapter. Thank you, Nat, Wotumba, Countrygirluk56, guest, Linda Wigginton, Mulderette, Skippy and Janice! I hope you will enjoy reading this chapter as well, although I am not too sure about the ending...

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o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Cessna Sovereign || above the United States**

The plane would be descending soon and land within about three quarters of an hour. The three of them had been discussing the case from different perspectives.

After a relative long pause, Deeks asked "You still think it's wise not to warn Sam, Hetty? I mean... well, you know they're close, a bit like brothers. I'm thinking 'bout just letting him know. Not demanding him to come and assist."

From the aisle next to where he sat, the gaze of wise, pale blue eyes of the tiny older lady rested on Deeks' face. Slowly but decisive Hetty shook her head.

It was Kensi who understood.  
"Never mind the 'just telling', Sam would want to come over too. But we all know he should be with the kids, especially now." She stared through the window into the darkness between them and the earth below. Then, she started again "Maybe if…" She heaved a deep sigh and bit her lips in a nervous way. "As long as we don't know if we find Callen in there, or in which shape, there's no use in telling Sam. He'd be anxious about everything that happened and we're not even sure what we can tell him."

"I get that," Deeks nodded. "Still… Well, if we find out anything. I think we owe it to Sam. He would've want us. And yes, I know he's still grieving and we should let him. I sure hope…" He inhaled deeply and knew he did not have to finish his sentence. Both women understood what he wanted to say.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **NCIS Office of Special Projects (OSP) **

"What do you think is wiser, Nell? Call in a Swatt team of the FBI from Kansas city, like Hetty asked for? Or take the shorter cut?"

She frowned. "Which is?"

"The army," Eric explained. "We've got Fort Riley, which is only a few miles West of the city of Manhattan," Eric said. He glanced at his watch and added "Near this spot where the motorhome was seen, dusk should be falling in soon, if not it already did. We could ask for something to light the sky, for instance. There should be some helis in there."

Nell nodded. "Just let Hetty know we changed our minds. The only thing we need to arrange is to get the army guys in there. Any chance you can arrange that as well?"

A large grin came from Eric's face. "You're talking to the best screen protector you've ever seen. Which means I leave it all up to you to do the talking, my dear Penelope."  
Of course he knew how her hazel eyes were spitting fire right now. But in their line of work, they had to be able to tease each other the way they did, and he swiveled his chair only to catch her gaze.  
"Hey Nell, just kidding. It's alright with me if you try and reach Hetty, and if that won't work, maybe director Vance will be available. You and I know it's for beyond our rank to arrange things like that."

"Yeah, you're right. Thanks Eric."

Eric nodded and turned to his screen again, while he heard how Nell made a call to Washington. She was better than him in doing things like that, he knew. Again, he switched from the map he had on screen to the results of the searches he'd entered in the system earlier.

'Olga Constanta' came up first. He read the information several times before he read it aloud. "This Olga, who entered the United States only some weeks after Hetty came back with Callen and Amy?"

Nell looked up. "What about her?"

"She flew in from Constanta, straight to Bangor."

"Same flight Hetty and Callen had," Nell acknowledged. "But does it matter, right now?"

Eric shrugged. "Maybe it doesn't, you're right. Maybe it used to be one of the standard international flights. Anyway… Well, this Olga eventually moved to Colorado and some years ago, to San Diego. Where she died, back in 2015."

"Right," Nell said. "Well, I guess it's just a fact you're stating. Again, I don't think I really matters. I mean, if she's dead, it doesn't have any relation to the facts we're facing, or is there, Eric?"

He sent her a sheepish smile. "Guess you're right, Miss Jones. Well, I leave it up to you to come up with more useful plans than."  
Eric heard her making the call with Washington and he sighed with Nell when after a minute or so, director Vance was still answering his phone and approved the simple action to make a call to Fort Riley and ask for any assistance.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

No helicopters to assist. All the army guys had was a drone pilot who could share what he saw from his computer screens. All they could do was listen to the reports sounding through the mics. The feed, however, wasn't to be shared. Just voices.

None of their own team was around and it made them feel even more vulnerable, even at this distance.

'There's the vehicle coming. Going slow. There are some cars coming from the other way. No headlights on. Counting four, two from the East, two from the West. They'll be blocking the road.'  
It was quiet for a few moments and it was killing her. "What's going on right now?" Nell asked.

The same voice continued 'The RV is moving, though quite slowly, in the direction of those cars'.

"But...," Eric started. He corrected his own thoughts. "Is there anything you can do to warn them?"

"Not yet, Sir. ETA of our men will be fifteen minutes from now," the reply came.

Nell sighed audible and spoke nearly desperately when she checked a timetable on her screen. "And the team's flight will be arriving even later than that. Isn't there anything we can do but wait?"

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Motorhome || Manhattan, Kansas, meanwhile**

Perhaps she was right after all and Mira and he were better of going on the road with her motorhome, Callen thought. He'd hoped there were houses nearby, but as far as he could see there was nothing at all. The wind outside was chilly and he unconsciously shivered. No way he was fit enough for a couple of miles long hike. He exhaled slowly and hated to admit to himself there was something really damaged inside his body. Breathing in and out hurt and Callen was all too aware of the possible injury to his lung.

"You're good?" Mira wanted to know.

He shook his head. "I think your idea is better indeed. See if we can find a safe place somewhere soon. We'd have the advantage of the darkness when going on foot, but feeling the way I feel at the moment, there's no way I'd make it too far."

"So what's our plan B?"

He liked the 'our' she mentioned. No hard feelings. "Reach civilization and try to contact my friends by phone. Or switch this vehicle with any car we'll find."

Mira frowned. "Stealing, you mean? I thought you said you work for the government?!"

His chuckle soon was replaced by a painful cough and he simply shook his head.

She got the message. "Get in, Mr. Callen. I can drive." Mira opened the driver's door with the keys she still had, and opened the one on his side too. Once Callen got to sit down, she glanced at her passenger. When she started the engine, she studied the navigation system and asked  
"What'ya think? We're near this Pillsbury Crossing, near the 911. How cynical, with no connection to the outside world. Or well… should we force Tomas to hand his phone?"

In everyday situations, it was exactly what Callen would do. Right now, he didn't feel able to have another confrontation with someone who was easily able to overpower him, being in this bad shape. He leaned back in the seat, and shook his head.

Mira understood. "Then I suggest we take this road before we decide what to do next. Back this way or head East by highway 24."

For a brief moment he closed his eyes. What would the Comescu do? Actually, Callen didn't have a clue about this place. "Manhattan... anything you know about it?"

Mira shook her head. "Nothing at all, except for what this system tells us. It seems we need to take this small road first, before we reach the highway."

He agreed. It was the only way to go. They should lose the large truck and find some kind of assistance.  
"What were you doing with this vehicle, by the way?" he asked. "Going on holiday?"

There was a short rustle when she shook her head and Callen noticed how Mira's expression darkened. "My partner — or call it my boyfriend, left me. And he left me with a mortgage which I could never pay with my salary. So, I was able to sell the place and quit my job. I… well, actually I planned to travel for a few weeks indeed. Try and see what I want to do with my life."

He glanced at her and had to know, so Callen asked "What about staying with family, Mira? Parents, siblings, you know… People who'd support you, no matter what."  
He knew it was an impertinent question and he himself had no right to ask her. After all, how many people asked him things like this in the past? He'd hated it, after all, to have to think of any reply. Yet, now he asked her, there was more than the plain prying. There was a warmth in his voice which could not be acted. And he didn't have any background information about this woman, yet it was as if he'd known her all his life.

Again, Mira shook her head. "My mămică died two years ago. There's nobody else. Not anymore."

He held his breath, only to remember it was a bad idea when a series of coughs hurt more than it should. Mămică. Callen waited a minute before he was able to continue. "You're from Romania… And it is just what I guessed already."

Now she was distracted and she glanced at him. "What do you mean?"

"Your mămică… she wasn't your real mother, was she?"

Unwittingly, Mira slowed down even more. "Why do you ask? What do you mean?"

All of a sudden Callen noticed a slow moving vehicle coming their way, no headlights on.

"Stop!" He yelled. Even in his condition, which was far from his normal sharpness and alertness, it was slow, in his opinion, how Mira responded to his order.

"What..." she gasped, before Callen interrupted "Put the car in reverse! Don't speak, just act!"

Again, it was slow how she acted. But then, she wasn't Sam or Kensi and this wasn't an easy vehicle to drive either. She did, however, do what he wanted her to do.  
The other car was faster, much faster than the two of them were in this motorhome. Callen should have expected the few gunshots, but this didn't go for Mira. She screamed in shock as a bullet hit the front window of the motorhome and as a result, she let go of the steering wheel and the gas pedal. When the t wheels on her side lost grip and slowly, the large motorhome tipped over.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Los Angeles || NCIS Office of Special Projects (OSP) **

Eric and Nell simply listened to the same male voice coming from the speaker. There still was no camera feed, only the single person flying the drone who was reporting to them what he saw - all they had was his observation, his reports sounding through the mics.

Now they knew the plane with Hetty, Deeks and Kensi landed safely and the three of them were about half an hour from where the motorhome was, Eric was trying to make another connection to one of their phones as well.

'The vehicle you're interested in stopped moving after the crash.'

"My God…" Nell gasped. "How… What else can you tell?"

'Two persons are moving away of it, by foot. Slowly, though. Followed by two other persons.' Again, it fell silent from the other man's side.

'Miss Jones? Everyone ehm, stopped moving. Situation unknown. Our team is around right as we speak, making a clearer observation. They're asking if you can confirm, a full 100%, there are none of your people in the field yet.'

"Absolutely sure." She knew how her voice hitched, and her mind was in a whirl because she knew what it meant. There was a sharp pain when she envisioned it may be their co-worker, their team leader, they were talking about.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Manhattan || Kansas, meanwhile**

Dizzy and hurt, he had been able to open the door on his side of the motorhome and climbed out. Once he sat on the side of the motorhome, he reached for Mira's hand as she asked him to help her out, even without talking.

Like Callen had felt before, he wasn't in any shape to hurry away. All he cared about was to keep Mira safe. Safe, so she could meet his father. Their father… he corrected himself and wondered how those thoughts passed his mind only so fast.

At least they got out and he hoped they could get away, just until... Inwardly he shook his head again. No way there would be anyone around to help Mira and him.

He looked around, pushing her forward, and he wished he had a gun of his own so he'd be able to defend themselves.

Another series of shots sounded and she screamed out in pain when one hit her. Still, she kept running, hoping he followed.

Then, with the third series of gunshots, Mira was hit again, and she stumbled to the ground. Before he had the opportunity to check on her and see how bad she was hurt, the too familiar sound of a bullet sounded from even closer, and milliseconds from that, a sharp flare of pain near his shoulder followed.

'Too late,' he thought, because from closer, he heard someone coming their way. He prepared for the last gunshot, shielding the woman who he deep down knew was his sister with his body…

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 _Thank you all for reading. A review is very welcome, as ever!_

Kni®benrots


	13. Chapter 13

**Mira**

 **chapter 13**

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Disclaimer: all credits to this magnificent team of NCIS Los Angeles go to Shane Brennan, R. Scott Gemmill and CBS.

A/N Oh, well… maybe it wasn't the best way to end a chapter, and it is what you might call a cliffhanger. But it was the best option in my opinion. Skippy and Linda, there's no other way of telling how much I appreciate your comments on my writing. Really, I am very grateful for it! Of course that goes for the other readers who left their review. In case I forgot to send a personal note: thank you, all!

Kni®benrots

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o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Manhattan || Kansas**

It wasn't like him, to look away from his fate. But he had to let her know, he had to tell her. In a painful gasp he whispered "Close your eyes, Mira. Look away from what may happen, and listen. You're my baby sister, I am—"

The sound of a slide being pulled back so close to him made Callen realize he was about to be shot at point-blank and that simple fact made him regret there was no opportunity anymore to explain.  
Again, he breathed in for what could have been his very last time, and it hurt more than he remembered from being shot before. There was more than just the physical pain. The words left unspoken, the plain sorrow were killing him.  
Seconds… he only had seconds left, and his life flashed by in only milliseconds so it seemed.  
He slowly exhaled and faced the gun. Shots were fired, and more shots, and shots were replaced by all the shouting.  
Then, there was her voice, but it came from miles away in his opinion. At least he told her… He wished the freezing cold would leave his body. A series of coughs were unstoppable and breathing in after that caused a stabbing pain that never left. He closed his eyes. Only for a moment, that should be okay. He welcomed the darkness though and he knew it kept him from suffering even more.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Manhattan || Kansas, 15 minutes later**

"What do you mean, we're too late?"

Back in Los Angeles, Nell sensed the despair in the words Kensi spoke, and felt it at the same time. All she had were the words her team spoke, and those she heard before.

The same distress were in Deeks' observation. "Man... it's like a complete war zone in here..."  
It was true: there were the bright lights of at least ten army trucks, there were more uniformed people than he'd seen in all of the LAPD headquarters at the same time.  
None of those people were just... being around. All of them were busy. He saw men being arrested by uniformed men. Men checking on people who probably were wounded, or perhaps dead. On top of that, a helicopter came flying in, landing east of the center of all the action. He observed how from a group one man stood up, to beckon to the chopper personnel where they were needed most. Automatically, Deeks narrowed his eyes to see if he could see their team leader.  
He didn't have the guts to suggest to Hetty and Kensi to come closer. He did move closer though, not knowing if either of the women would follow. It was exactly that what he had hoped to never have to witness. Because indeed it was Callen who needed the immediate care. Next to him was a wounded woman who Deeks did not recognize, but who was probably the woman who owned the camper.

Only a couple of feet behind him, he heard a sharp gasp and Deeks knew it was not Kensi.

"Oh — Clara…!"

Deeks turned to see what happened and he was just in time to assist Kensi who supported Hetty to a seated position. He didn't know what happened, but he understood all too well that Hetty was completely upset. So was he, because all he could do was observe how too many men were trying to stop too much blood coming from two wounds of his coworker.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Manhattan || Kansas, 30 minutes later**

Deeks heaved an enormously deep sigh. "I guess we need to call the others."

Vivid memories had come back from years ago when Dom caught a bullet to save Sam. The pools of blood, the manic moments during which Sam tried to save their young co-worker — it all came back to Kensi. She nodded, still shaky because all what happened before.  
"But well, I thought that perhaps Nell and Eric can do that? Although… I'm not too sure about that either. My God, Deeks. This is so much to proceed. From that first phone call Callen made to you, which was what… about a week ago? I really am flabbergasted, still am. We need to let Sam know. And Garrison, of course. You think they all should come over?"

"Yes Kenz… I mean… It's bad, don't you think? I don't want to be negative, but they simply have to know and make their own decision whether or not they come to Kansas just to see him and be with him. As for Garrison, the shock will be a double one for him."  
Deeks' mind was in a whirl. This woman... Callen's sister?! They all heard that she told Hetty how Callen shielded her, he caught a bullet for her.

He reached for his phone and sent his partner an encouraging smile. This is what they had to deal with. This is what they did… Deeks breathed in and waited a few beats until he heard Nell's voice answer the phone.

"Deeks… Thank heaven you're calling in. I erhm… we were quite scared to contact you. How is…" She didn't finish her sentence, scared about what she may hear.

"It's touch-and-go, actually, Nell. Well, that's what they told us." Deeks continued. "And I'm no doctor, all I have are the words of this field medic. His explanation was pretty clear. No difficult medical terms. But hell, it sounds pretty scary."  
Deeks repeated about the same he understood about half an hour earlier.  
"Fractures of bone tissue entered his lung, probably with a bullet which is stuck somewhere too. He was nearly drowning in his own blood. Whilst his heart keeps pumping blood through his body, it has to work much faster. Too fast."

The intelligence analyst remained silent at Deeks' words, which he understood all too well. Most of the time Nell and Eric were the ones who were able to tell the team what they saw on screen. The ones who would lead them to the right spot, who warned if danger came near in whatever means.  
This time, all they had was voices, no camera feed at all. Other people in charge. Not Callen and his team, instead the team was shattered all over the country, whereas Callen himself was a victim right now. Time had proven to be the worst enemy, though a few bullets shot by one of Comescus men proceeded all of it.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Kansas City Hospital || Kansas, two days later**

Although he spotted Garrison talking with a younger woman who sat in a wheelchair, Sam's attention was drawn to the single IC room. He knew he'd have to go through the ritual of the special passage and the disinfectant he'd have to use. Never mind the ritual, he automatically did so.

Hetty looked up from what it was she was saying or doing. Despite the dim light and private hospital room, there was far too much noise to call it a room where a patient could rest. He recognized the regular pumping sound of the ventilator.  
To Sam, the grinding noise of a centrifuge sounded very scary and too serious. His eyes followed the tubes which were connected to the large machine which filled half of the wall next to Callen's bed. The tubes ended in the right of his partner's neck.

He tended to whisper, but it wouldn't matter. Callen would not hear him and with all the pumping, rasping and beeping sounds, he needed to use his normal voice. Unable to hide his worry he asked "What went wrong this time, Hetty?"

Now that she turned her attention to the senior agent who had entered. She never noticed he came in.  
"Sam… Oh, Sam".  
She got up on her feet and reached her arms as she felt the urge to hug him dearly. He did the same, bend forward and held her dearly. Only a beat later, Sam asked again "Tell me, what happened?"

"Too much, Mr. Hanna. Far too much. And this…" she motioned to the bed and every machine in the room, "this is all a Comescu doing."

He swallowed several times. While his world had turned upside-down only some months ago, and it was his partner who supported him mentally and who helped him work on his boat, who had been around for the kids… And just now, when Sam had decided to use a few weeks on his own and with his children, when he did not have Callen's back, the Comescus found him.

His gaze went from his partner's still face, peacefully now, but that was only a temporary state of sedation.

"He was shot, Mr. Hanna. The first time in MY garden. We… there was no possibility to help him as Mr. Deeks, Miss Blye, Arkady Kolcheck and I were being kept captive. Mr. Callen probably felt very responsible and he tried to help us. In vain."

"That was over a week ago? You should and could have told me, don't you think?"

The expression on her face had changed, saddened. "We didn't know WHAT we had to say, Mr. Hanna. We worked so hard to find him, after the three of us were released from the hospital."

He frowned. "You were what?"

"You heard what I said, Mr. Hanna. The four of us were hospitalized. And Jacob… oh, poor Jacob…"

Sam let his large hand going over the petite back of their petite boss. Without words, he understood what happened. He paused for some minutes. Just being here for and with her was all she needed right now. Then he continued, with too many questions he had.  
"These wounds… and how did he get here?"

She shook her head. "They kind of abducted him. This information came from what the physicians told me, and it was confirmed by Mira, they tranquilized him nearly continuously. But he was shot before that, and that bullet ended up in one of his ribs. It was completely destroyed. Somehow, they replaced it with something artificial. But the wound was infected too."

"Nell simply asked to come and see him. I —well, I never expected it would be like this." Sam rubbed his face several times. "But then, how did he end up in here?"

"In here?"

"Yes. In here. In a hospital in Kansas city, tied up on all of these machines."

She looked very upset, more than Sam remembered saw before.

"He was shot. Again. In some kind of small town called Manhattan."

It sounded quite obvious, yet Sam sensed how Hetty was affected by all of what happened. "Listen, Hetty, you could have let me know earlier. It isn't… Nell didn't mention how bad it is. What did the doctors say?"

She slowly took of her glasses and put them on the small edge behind her chair. Then she let her hands go over her temples several times. "Physically, he will be okay. He will be, Mr. Hanna. He has to be."

"That's good to hear," he agreed.

Then he followed Hetty's gaze to the woman who sat in the wheelchair. She was alone now and had turned her attention to the plain wall opposite of her, staring into the blank, alone and in a world of her own. To Sam, the younger woman appeared to be just as upset as Hetty was.

"There's a lot we need to find out, Mr. Hanna, quite a lot. Now, if you will excuse me for… For the time being. I figure you will want to stay with your partner for that same time. There's some coffee if you want to."  
She looked up as she probably realized all of a sudden that this wasn't Los Angeles and that her senior agent had not be around indeed.  
"Like I said, there is a lot to find out, Mr. Hanna. But, please, tell me, how are you doing? The kids…"

Sam simply shook his head. "Kamran is with Michelle's sister. They both insisted. Aiden flew in with me, just to make sure all is right. He'll be heading back to his unit tomorrow. Just like he planned… I'll be —"  
He shrugged and shook his head. He actually didn't know if he'd be okay. Not, if he were honest. But why bother the tiny handler with his personal dark thoughts when she had some own trouble to be shot first?  
"I'm good, Hetty. Good, for now. It's good to hear G will be too."

She simply odded as she absently stood up to leave.  
"Your glasses, Hetty." Sam reached for them, handed them and glanced at the older woman. There was no need to prod, Sam knew. At this moment, there was something which bothered the operations manager, and he understood her need to process something before she'd share.  
She'd share, some time from now. To Sam, it mattered that he could be with his partner right now, and have his back from now on.

* * *

 _Thank you all for reading & reviewing!_


	14. Chapter 14

**Mira**

 **chapter14**

* * *

Disclaimer: never mind the fact it is great to try and write the characters in this storyline, they still don't belong to me, nor do I belong to them. Thank you, CBS, Shane Brennan, R. Scott Gemmill, for introducing this 'NCIS LA team' to us.

 **A/N** Again, I really feel that I have to thank you so much for all those wonderful reviews I've read after I posted the previous chapter. It's what keeps me writing! Please do let me know if you liked what you read.  
Above all, I wish all of you some warm days with friends and family. Happy holidays!

Kni®benrots

* * *

She'd share, some time from now. To Sam, it mattered that he could be with his partner right now, and have his back from now on.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Kansas City Hospital || Kansas, minutes later**

"So… the blood results came through. I don't know how he did know, but your agent Callen was right. That's what this man said."  
The clear blue eyes - a shade darker than Callen's, Hetty noted - rested on hers. The stare, however, was just as demanding as the team leader's, when she confronted Hetty Lange with what she just heard.

"This… man?" Hetty carefully responded.  
Never mind the terrible mistakes she made with Callen, she never wanted to repeat those. It was the result of decisions she once made with Granger, Arkady Kolcheck. They agreed to keep as much as possible secret from the Reznikov's children, and also to separate them after they had entered the United States. No, she did not want to keep anything hidden from this Mirela C. Constanta.  
Whether or not this woman got involved into this case accidently or on purpose, Hetty didn't know.  
"The man you spoke to, my dear, is your father."

"Is he? So he's supposed to be Callen's father too. However, this patient's log on his room says that next of kin is you; Henrietta Lange. Would you mind explaining this... bloodline we are supposed to have? Because nobody cares to answer the questions I have, since we're not supposed to be related."

Hetty swallowed several times. "It's a long story, my dear."

"I suppose it is. From what you can witness, I have all the time of the world. Which goes for him as well," Mira motioned to the two windows which separated Callen from them.  
"Lange... Callen... and someone you call Garrison but whose real name is Reznikov? Indeed, you've got something to explain."

Despite the severe injuries of the man she'd considered as her son over the past years and the nearly accusatory questions of the younger woman who sat opposite of her, a short chuckle escaped.  
"Oh, the two of you are so alike..."  
But her look changed rapidly to a sad seriousness. "Did... has anyone told you how you look like your mother, my dear?"

The words hit the right spot. Miserably, Mira now shook her head. "It wasn't to be discussed at home. My... māmicā, well, all she ever told was how my father decided to leave his familia. And she described how my mother was shot, on a Romanian beach. As was my brother. I was with māmicā who changed my diaper at the same time. She took me away and took care of me ever since. Well, she died some years ago."  
She paused a beat and the sadness on her face changed into curiosity. "But you… you knew my mother?"

It was odd, in Hetty's opinion, how this younger woman asked exactly the same thing as Callen had, some years ago. She heaved a deep sigh, nodded and replied "Where do I begin? Well, I did, my dear."

Mira hesitated a few seconds, then nodded approvingly. "What was her name?"

"Clara. Her name was Clara. You… well, I was the one who saved your brother. And your sister."

"I… I have a sister?"

Hetty nodded, but then shook her head immediately afterwards. "How do I explain. Your mother was killed indeed. She probably died only minutes before I arrived. When I found her, young Mr. Callen clung to her body and her blood was on him, everywhere. Your sister… Well, I took them to the US with me, but left them with childcare once we passed the customs. I had to, you see, since I couldn't take care of them myself. Your real mother, she worked with the CIA, like I did at that time. Her name was Clara Callen, and she was murdered because of her job. The Callens were hunted by a Romanian family."

"The Comescus," Mira understood.

Hetty replied with a simple nod. "Your mama hid you. Perhaps she knew that all of Clara's children were in danger, perhaps she didn't. But it was a wise decision, which kept you safe. It cannot be said for Amy. We don't know for sure, but it is quite probable that she was found and her death was made to look like an accident. She died at the age of 11."

It took a moment to take in the message, then Mira said "And so there is only one Callen left."

Slowly, Hetty shook her head. "No, dear. Although we did not know, there's you too."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **NCIS Office of Special Projects (OSP)**

Like the previous days, Nell Jones contacted Lieutenant William Summerton of the Fort Riley army complex near Manhattan.  
"Just to inform how your men are doing," she introduced herself. She listened and hummed several times. "That's good," she concluded. "Well, then, there's something I would want to share with you. You see, we managed to put all the facials you send us, into our system."  
Nell now paused a beat and now heard Summerton hum. She continued, more like a question than as a conclusion. "As you said, you were sure those were all of them?"

"Positively," came the reply. "Just to confirm, we had seven men. In custody or deceased."

She held her breath and rechecked the short list in front of her. "Right," Nell then said. "Well, that's all I needed to know. Thank you so much for everything you've done, Sir. Oh, and please, will you thank Andrea Robson on behalf of NCIS as well? He guided us all the way, and ehm, it sure helped us."

With a 'You're welcome, agent Jones', the call was disconnected.

"Not good, is it?" Eric asked. He'd glanced at his partner every now and then during the past few minutes.

Nell shook her head, and she got up from her chair. "There's this Tomas Comescu, and we've got him, alive. What may be important too, is that this man is no longer amongst us in the land of the living." She pointed the name on the large screen. "Dario Armerian."

"Armerian… From what I figured out, he was the leader of the Armenian group that worked with the Comescus. So, that may be good, or else we'll hear in the near future, right?" Eric prodded. "But please do go on, because I simply know there's a but coming."

"Vigo Comescu is still not around, Eric."

"Crap…" he shook his head as he took his phone.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Kansas City Hospital || Kansas, a few hours later**

The junior agents had welcomed Sam and the three of them had discussed some of their sorrows and worries about Sam's family, and perhaps more about the man who was not around them right now, but in an ICU room in this hospital.

"You know," Sam mused now he sat on a table in the hospital restaurant and had some coffee with his younger co-workers. "The first thing I was wondering when I saw Mira, was if Callen had found him a new girlfriend in the few weeks we hadn't seen each other. But this… man, it's quite something, don't you think?"

"It is. It sure is something wonderful," Kensi agreed. "Family. It must be so wonderful for him."  
Like Sam, Deeks and Eric, she didn't have any siblings at all. The only one they knew of who had any sisters was Nell, but then, Nell hardly had any contact with those sisters. Kensi had always felt sorry for Callen, because they all knew that he once had a sister, who died, like his mother died earlier.

Deeks shrugged only lightly as he said "Don't forget that he has family already, Kens. I mean, he found his father and gained a half-sister and kind of a nephew as well, right? So, tell me, what makes it so wonderful right now? You both know just as well as I do it hardly made any differences to him. Au contraire, to me it seems it is quite a disappointment to him. "  
He huffed shortly and went on "I mean, have you seen the man around? Well?"

"Now… well, come to think so… I saw him talking to Mira, yesterday, when I first came in," Sam mentioned. "And you're right, Deeks. Garrison is not exactly the father that Callen hoped for or expected once they finally found each other. And the relation the two of them have? Not the usual father and son thing either. Garrison comes and goes whenever he wants and he doesn't share easily"

It caused a short giggle from Kensi, but she apologized immediately "Sorry… I mean, Callen is just the same, right? But you're right, Sam, as were you, Deeks. Talk about Alex, well, she has a life of her own and she never shared the same youth as he did."  
Kensi let her hands go through her dark hair. "Still, I think this is wonderful. I mean… the chance of finding each other. It's impossible for me to calculate that chance and I bet you won't be able to be that either, Sam, as a mathletic."

Sam heaved a deep sigh. He wondered if the two juniors weren't exaggerating their romantic ideas and now he came to think about it, he wasn't up to think about it any longer. "Guess you two need to finish your food. Gonna go and see if there's any changes. See you around."  
He shoved back his chair and got up, leaving the couple together.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Beside the uniformed guard outside manual ICU sliding doors there was nobody to talk to. He considered the two person's visit rule, and noticed only Hetty was around. He disinfected his hands once again and entered the room as well.

"How's he doing?" he wanted to know.

"Oh, he's doing fine, Sam. Only moments ago, one of the physicians left. He told me that the oxygen level in his blood is improving. His dependence of this machine is nearly nil by now. Which is good," Hetty stated.

Sam only nodded as an agreement, then heaved a sigh. Staying in this room with all the different lights and sounds made him nervous.  
Of course, Hetty sensed it. "He'll be safe in here, Mr. Hanna. And I'll stay in here for another while. Just… go and get some fresh air. You seem to need it."

He only nodded, glanced at his partner and turned and left the room.

It wasn't like she was used to. The Sam Hanna they all knew would stay around, or more likely would have insisted to stay.  
But Henrietta Lange understood. If these were his first days back at work after the three months off that she had granted him, they were most difficult for the large man. He needed some personal moments before he'd be sharper.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Sam slowly sank down on one of the benches near the hospital entrance and for a brief moment, he closed his eyes.  
The soft warmth of the Kansas sun, very different from Los Angeles or Florida, touched his skin. Sitting here, right now, made him wonder why tough luck seemed to follow him. For a while, he simply wished he could turn off his feelings.  
During the past weeks, Callen had been around for him, for the kids. Who simply had been listening. Who took care of simple things like doing some grocery shopping. Callen who helped him moving out, and moving in the boat. Who sanded, without a word, waiting until Sam would finally started talking.  
And despite the fact that Hetty told him that the doctors confirmed that Callen would recover, the fear that it may not happen had taken a grip of Sam. What if he never had a chance to let his friend know how grateful he was to have him around?

"He means a lot to you, am I right, agent Hanna?"

His eyes shut open, struck by the words of a voice he did not know. Clear blue eyes observed him and now she felt that he stared back at her, Mira moved her gaze to the walls of the hospital. Her left hand went through her light brown hair.

"Please call me Sam," Sam simply said. "And you're right. He means a lot to me. He's my partner, my best friend. The brother I never had."  
Having said that, he shook his head. "That must sound silly to you."

There was a short smile, which reminded Sam all too much of the rare smiles Callen sent him.  
"I don't know if it's silly. I — well, I never had a brother. And actually, I haven't had a real chance to get to know him." Her face reddened when she continued "If it wasn't he who managed to get out, I guess I would have been around when things would really, really have gotten out of control. He knew about the risks. I… All I was, was naïve, convinced he was what Tomas told me. Someone who was on the wrong side of the law. Instead, it was Tomas and his uncle I should have distrusted. But you know, my best friend introduced us. How could I let her down? Not believe her?" She paused a moment and added "I even tranquilized him… my own brother."

Sam got up to sit on the bench next to her wheelchair and he patted her arm. "We all tend to do what we believe in. When someone plays you, someone who was introduced to you by someone dear, it is hard to deal with."  
Thoughts of the betrayal of Joelle came up, thoughts which still bothered him.

"We've been partners for about ten years now, I figure," Sam mentioned. "To him, it must be terrifying. Knowing there's you, finding out like this. A father, Lord knows how he wanted that and how much time he invested to find out if there still was a father and if he was alive. They finally met… you won't believe it. Somewhere in Russia, when we were on the run. A miracle. So very unexpected, after all. Chances were… so I incredibly small."

He let his own words sink in, and wondered how small the chance really was to sit on a bench outside of a Kansas hospital, next to a younger sister of Callen. And what it would do to him…  
He sighed deeply. There was very little he knew about this woman. Perhaps the team heard from Nell and Eric, but he didn't, and it surprised him Mira was open in all of her words. Different from Callen.

"You shouldn't feel guilty." There was warmth in his dark brown eyes when he asked "How are you dealing, with all of this? I mean, in our line of work we cope with violence, being shot at."

She shrugged. "The, ehm, the wounds will heal. So will I, don't you think?"

"Gunshots?"

"A flesh wound in my upper arm, and one near my hip. That one will keep me of my feet for the next few days."  
Mira bit her lip in a way that Sam saw his partner do many times in the past. She then said "And well, I have to deal with it, don't I? It's not what I am used to. All that violence, it was…awful."  
Both of them were silent for a while. "You know, I'm a journalist. Write articles for several magazines and newspapers about traveling, about nice places to visit. I… Kansas is not one of the destinations I planned to be right now."

"None of us do, Mira. But this is what we do. There's — you don't have anyone who needs to hear from you?"

Mira opened her mouth but then she shook her head. "Oh," Was all she uttered.

Something bothered her now, Sam noticed. "Anyone?"

"There is. But — I can't contact her… can I?"

"So, tell me, can I help? You sure I can't do anything for you?" Sam tried again.

She was all quiet now and all he noticed were some tears in her eyes which she rubbed away. "I — I just can't do that. I think."  
She swallowed some times before she looked in his eyes. "My best friend. She knew I was… She asked me if I could meet with her brother and if he and a friend could use my motorhome to take this man to the east."

Sam smiled politely. "You see, then you should call her. She may be concerned."

Again, Mira shook her head. "I cannot contact her anymore, I think. You didn't listen, did you. My best friend, she is — she's a Comescu too, agent Hanna. Lena is Tomas' sister. We met in high school and were friends ever since. I… what do I tell her?"

It left him stunned and he did not have an answer.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading. As ever, your comments are very welcome, feel free to leave a review!_


	15. Chapter 15

**Mira,**

 **chapter 15**

* * *

A/N To all of you: I hope 2018 will be kind for you and that you'll find what you were looking for so far!  
This story is running to its end, another two or three chapters left from now on. It shouldn't surprise you, or does it? Strangely enough, even now I had some time off, there was less time to relax and write.

Thank you so much, again, for all your wonderful reviews, BlackBear53, Linda, Skippy, Mulderette, Wotumba, Guest, CountrygirlUK56

* * *

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 _My best friend, she is — she's a Comescu too, agent Hanna. Lena is Tomas' sister. We met in high school and were friends ever since. So I… what do I tell her?"_

 _It left him stunned and he did not have an answer._

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

"And what does this make me? Somebody who is a Reznikov, or a Callen, somebody who worked with the Comescus. If… If they knew, it would mean suicide, right?"

Sam stood up and started pacing. Maybe he should discuss this matter with Hetty. But he felt Mira needed something to hold on to. He also realized that from now on, she might be in danger as well if anyone started talking about it. After all, she was a Callen, or a Reznikov.  
He shook his head, sat down again and stared at the younger woman.  
"You're right, it's… this situation is quite something. Your friend probably knows her brother is in custody. And I don't know if she's been contacting her family. Is there, ehm, any contact between her with any of the other Comescu family members, as far as you know?"

Her expression grew sadder and she sighed. "Romanian familias are close, especially once they've moved from Europe to here."

"Hence the Comescus will know you are still alive, and the moment you contact your friend, she will want to know about the 'guest' who traveled with you," Sam understood.

Mira stared ahead and both were silent again, lost in their own thoughts.  
"Perhaps… I can tell her that my temporary home was destroyed by her brother. And that I have another assignment. Somewhere abroad, for a couple of months."

An appreciative smile appeared on Sam's face and she liked the broad dimples which came with it. "Just as a creative brain as Callen has. Thinking in scenarios, reflecting while we're on our way to some kind of case."

"Is he creative? Strong? Talkative? Married?"

Her questions surprised him, yet immediately after the surprise came the understanding. In a situation that they had been in, there had been no time nor possibility for any ordinary conversations.

"He's… yeah, he's strong, and as a leader of a team of federal agents he has to be strong and creative."

Mira interrupted and said "We are not in the same profession, you, he and I. I don't know anything about your work."

"I never expected you would know what we're doing, or understand," Sam replied. "Well, and about his personal life? He's had some relationships, but he is, well, he hardly trusts any strangers. To me, it's hard to see him struggle to live an ordinary life. Family will make him vulnerable, at least, that is how he reasons. I think it actually scares him. Perhaps that is why the relationship with your father is like it is — simply difficult."

Sam saw how tears filled her eyes. His message might have been too direct, he now figured.

Mira sighed again and said "Vulnerable… because of family. Maybe… I should leave and forget I ever met him. After all… I never had a brother."

She motioned for one of the nurses, who understood by the hand signal only that this patient wanted to be returned to the ward she was supposed to be in. Then Mira turned to Sam again and said "Tell him… it all was a mistake. You can destroy those tests, can you? In your profession as a special agent, I mean."

"Now wait, Mira. That's not how life works," Sam said.  
To the nurse who now waited he said "I'll take care of it." He waited a few seconds until the nurse was far enough to overhear them.

"Callen will be afraid," Sam repeated. "Scared you could be taken in an instance. With his job come many enemies. The Comescus are worst."  
It was useless to tell about Janvier, who was behind bars right now. Or of some of the Mexican gangs. Not now, Sam thought. He continued, calm now  
"But we're a team, Mira. Which means that we should have each other's back. We protect, keep our country safe. It means we'll do all we can to keep you safe as well."

He swallowed several times, then put his hand on Mira's shoulder and added, speaking softly now "When I told you that Callen is like my brother, it means that I am going to treat you like a sister, Mira. If you'll allow me to, of course."  
Another faint smile appeared on his face when he thought of all the times Callen hated it when Sam mentioned how many times he'd kept Callen out of trouble.

Mira rubbed her nose with her hand, not realizing the full impact of the other man's words, but for someone who spend her life without any other relatives but a woman whom she knew wasn't her biological mother, it was impressive enough. "You may roll me back to my room now, Sam."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Kansas City Hospital || Kansas, one hour later**

Sliding doors opened and a men dressed in pale blue appeared. "Family of Callen George?"

At that very moment, three pair of eyes looked up to the huge red haired man who stood in front of him. The chocolate browns of Sam, Hetty's pale greyish blues and the clear blue eyes of Mira.

A short glimpse of surprise appeared on the doctor's face and in his green eyes before he nodded and scraped his throat.

"Well then… I just wanted to let you know that we just detached Mr. George from the ECMO. A strong body like this man's should not be depending on a temporary bypass like this. By now, we trust his lung will have rested long enough. A ventilator only will be sufficient in our opinion. For now, that is."

There was a loud sigh coming from Sam, but it was Hetty who replied "Well, that is good news, doctor."

"Hoffmann, ma'am, you can call me Hoffmann," the man said with a calm smile. He was about to continue, but the Hetty interrupted with a "Lange. You may call me Miss Lange. As you were saying, our, ehm, mister George will be on a ventilator. Is there any indication how long this new situation will last? You see, we actually would prefer if you can see to it that he is to be transferred to Los Angeles as soon as possible."

Brows were raised. "Los Angeles. Well, I must say… I'm sorry to have to disappoint you, Miss Lange. Flying back in his condition is not to be discussed for the first week."

"How about driving him back?" Sam wanted to know.

The physician shook his head again. "Not until he's much stronger. And in that case, flying will be much more comfortable. So, answering your questions, it would be wise to wait about one week before we are able to make a wise decision about the patient's state of health."

Some nods came from Hetty, since she understood the doctor's words. "Well then, doctor Hoffmann, your explanation is clear enough. Now, I do not know who is in charge of these hospital wards, but there are some issues I think will be wise to discuss with this person." She pursed her mouth just slightly and for anyone who didn't know this woman, her small stature and her way of talking might be misleading.  
Not this man. Hoffmann sent her a half smile as he fully understood that this was somebody to take as very serious. "Miss Lange, that will be me. Please allow me a few minutes, and I will be back with you."

Hoffmann was right. He changed the standard hospital gear to ordinary civilians clothes. "Let's find a more private room to continue our conversation."  
He led the others to a small consulting room and before he sat down, he wheeled Mira in and gestured to the two chairs. "Please, do sit down."  
A moment later, he faced the three persons opposite of him. "What is it you wanted to share with me?"

"Security," Sam started, after Hetty send him a nod which meant he could be open enough. "Since Mr. George is not the real name of this man who is hospitalized. In fact, he is a federal agent whose identity has been compromised. This means he may still be in danger, yet he is unable to defend himself at this very moment."

Hoffmann raised his brows once again, but waited until more details were revealed.  
Hetty took over now and said "I want cameras outside of the room of my agent, doctor Hoffmann. Outside every room he will be in, whether it is where he is right now, examination rooms, whatever. Not only cameras, there needs to be security personnel as well. Appointed by me and dressed as your regular staff."

Now, Hoffmann leaned over, leaning on his elbows. "Oh. Oh dear. This is really going on? Like — like in the movies."

Hetty chuckled lightly "Real life can be like this too. Now, about what I mentioned, we are going to have our people in here to protect this agent whose name we will not mention."

Sam nodded towards Hetty and he decided he'd add "I'd suggest that miss Constanta will be admitted close to Mr. George."

Hoffmann now leaned back in his chair, let his thoughts go and then opened one of the drawers of his desk. He mumbled something nobody understood, then he looked up and took a small map which he studied for a moment. "Consider it will be arranged, Miss Lange."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

With the iPad Deeks had taken with him, the team contacted the analysts in Los Angeles.  
Nell had informed them about the outcome she knew of so far by phone. It meant that Tomas Comescu was not about to be released from prison, but also that his uncle, Vigo Comescu, was nowhere to be found.

"The Comescus won't give up until they find Callen," Eric added to Nell's words, with some kind of desperation in his voice. "Hetty, Director Vance wants to talk to you about this matter. He even suggested that Callen should recover at a secret location and later be transferred to another NCIS team as soon as possible."

"Wait… what?" Sam said. "That's plain humbug, Hetty. I suppose you are never going to agree to that, right?"

"Besides, Callen will never want to leave our team. I mean… when he's forced to do so, he'll probably leave NCIS." Kensi stated. "And I've got the feeling that he won't ever agree to stay in a save house or accept a new identity either."

Deeks carried on "But no matter how or no matter where, it will be impossible to stay hidden for this Comescu I think. I mean... Hetty, they found you. They knew where Arkady lives. They'd find Sam too, us... and they'd lure him out, again."

The soft voice of Mira, who was still around, interrupted the discussion "Why don't you make believe that Callen died? I mean, is it very difficult to organize a fake funeral? Then these Comescus may leave it like that."  
They all fell silent and so she added "It's just an idea. I ehm, I'm sorry I butted in."

Again, it was quiet for another few seconds, then Hetty started to chuckle. "My dear Miss Constanta, an idea like that is, how shall I say, rather unusual. In fact, it may be better than whatever it is Director Vance will come up with."

She nodded to Deeks, who understood that he should turn the iPad slightly, so Hetty could address the youngsters at the Ops in Los Angeles.  
"Miss Jones, Mr. Beale, you heard the lady. Now, I suggest you should dig into this matter and make some preparatory arrangements. And please, rest assured I will contact Director Vance and keep him from making any decision."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Kansas City Hospital || Kansas, 32 hours later**

A regular beep sounded but once he concentrated on it, it speeded up. His own heartbeat. The tightness around his torso. Slowly, he opened his eyes. Dim daylight. He knew where he was in an instant and a soft moan escaped from his throat.

"Hey, there you are."

Not Hetty. Not Kensi and of course, not Sam. Well, at least both of them survived.  
He replied "hey," but it came out hoarse and he scraped his throat. It hurt and for a brief moment he closed his eyes.

"You want me to get someone?"

He opened his eyes and without a word she understood his reply. Mira reached for a styrofoam cup with a straw from a tray and slowly bend his way, moving the hinged tray his way.  
"It's just some water and they said you should take only small sips. Your body isn't used to too much fluid. I guess there will be a nurse soon."  
She simply studied the unhandy way he managed to drink just a little and he let go of the straw again.

Before he was about to speak, Mira said "You know… you were right. We — there was a blood-test. Your father, our father, was around. He never knew about me."

"Garrison is here?"

She shook her head. "He was, some days ago." As she read the questions in his eyes Mira said "He was alarmed, by your team. Somehow, they found you. Found us, and managed to get help just in time. I met them, your co-workers. Right now, they have some kind of issue to take care of in Los Angeles. They're great people, Callen. Kensi and Deeks, they're madly in love. And this Hetty. I've never met a woman like her. And Sam… he cares so much…"

"Sam?"

"He had to leave too."

So much to process and he was so tired.

"They'll be back in here soon. Agent Nell Jones is around."

"Nell…" Callen closed his eyes. He had so many things he wanted to ask, but not now.

He drifted back to some kind of sleep. Mira smiled, then wiped away some tears immediately. Such a strange feeling. A brother, a real one, and here the two of them were in the same room. Whereas he belonged to a special group of people, she felt being alone on an island, with him and a peculiar man who came into her life and disappeared just as easy. A man both Callen and she should call their father.  
She remembered Sam's words: family might frighten Callen. Right now, in here, it did the same to her.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Callen didn't know how long he slept, but now he was awake and his eyes were fixed on the younger woman, leaning back in a chair which should be far from comfortable.

It should be the other way around. He was the big brother who should protect and help his younger sister. Being attached to any machine which checked if and how everything in his body was functioning wasn't his thing. And if it had to be anyone sitting and snoring in one of these lousy, uncomfortable chairs, it should be Sam. Not her.

She hadn't shared too much in his opinion and in his miserably weak position, he hadn't asked that much either.

'Mirela C. Constanta', Callen read on the small wristband on her wrist. he was wondering about that unknown C in her name - was it a C for Callen or did it refer to her ánd his real mother's first name, Clara? Then he realized that while wearing such a wristband, it meant she still was admitted to the hospital as well.

Yeah, it should be he, the big brother, who'd be taking care for his baby-sister.  
A broad smile appeared on his face, unseen by anybody. A real sister. He inhaled as deep as he dared, feeling — well, he didn't really know how.  
Alive and feeling like he belonged somewhere, could mean something to someone much closer than he'd ever envisioned. Why now, he mused. Just when he thought he learned the way to live, life changed. Again.

* * *

 _Thank you all for reading. Please, do leave your thoughts about this storyline, this chapter._

Kni®benrots


	16. Chapter 16

**Mira**

 **chapter 16**

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** all credits for coming up with such a marvelous team called NCIS Los Angeles go to Shane Brennan, R. Scott Gemmill and CBS. Thank you for being able to use them for these purposes only!

* * *

A/N As ever, I welcome your reviews and appreciate all of them so much! Thank you, BlackBear53, ssl71, orangetails, Linda, Mulderette, Wotumba, Janice, CountrygirlUK56.

\- To Linda: Sam was so great in here, making Mira feel extra welcome. Thank you, once again, for sharing your thoughts. I always love to read the reviews you leave!  
\- To Skippy: thanks for the many and great reviews you've left so far. Like you said, Hetty tried a fake death certificate once, trying to convince the Comescus. The idea this time is that it may be rather different since there even was a fake funeral.

Also, I want to apologize for the irregular uploads. There was not that much time to sit down and start writing during the past few weeks. Besides, I've thrown part of the writing I did away and restarted it again. And again, since it did not really feel good. Never mind though, enjoy the ride!

Kni®benrots

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o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Mira pressed the red 'close call' on the pre-paid phone Nell Jones had handed her. She exhaled and let her hand through her light brown hair several times. Speaking with her friend Leah was different, in her opinion, now she knew about the relationship between both families. Still, Mira didn't have a different feeling about her friend, even though she was a Comescu.

Nell send her a sincere smile. "Those were exactly the right words you used."

"You think so?"

Nell only nodded and Mira continued "If he... when Callen, knows my ties with this Comescu family— you think he'll distrust me, Nell?"

She didn't know. When it came to this blood feud, Nell knew Callen could be unreasonable. On the other hand...  
"You didn't know about this all, Mira. He can't blame you. It's more probable he will want to protect you."

Mira looked at the other woman and smiled carefully at Nell. She didn't know whether or not she should go on to discuss this now since Gregg entered the room. The wise and petite older woman, Henrietta Lange, had selected him, an agent from Kansas' FBI unit, for protection purposes. There were supposed to be co-workers of him around pretty soon, but for the time being, Mira was sure she could rely on Nell Jones and Gregg Jackson.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Kansas City Hospital || Kansas, halfway next morning**

"Sam and Hetty will return tomorrow," Nell told Callen.

She leaned on one leg only, having the other bent and flat against the wall. "Those clogs are killing, you know," she added as she followed the team leader's gaze.

He smirked and lifted his brows for a second only. "I wasn't commenting on anything, was I?"

A blush warmed her face and she shook her head. Since Callen hadn't responded to the expected return of his partner and boss, Nell supposed he knew already. She took the patient's status and studied it professionally.  
"Looks like you're doing much better, Callen. So, how're feeling?"

Those weren't the questions he expected from the intelligence analyst slash junior agent he knew. It was more like Nate, perhaps. Or the regular physician he met in here. And Nell should've known better than this.  
Callen muttered something like 'kay' and she understood. "It was originally Mira's idea, did you know that?"

Callen knew Nell referred to the plan about a so-called funeral and he hummed something unheard.

"What was that?" Nell asked.

"I'd rather not think about it," Callen said.

"There were enough guests to make it look like a — well, y'know, for real. Director Vance was there, Gibbs and Abby. We all were. And of course, your dad, Alex..."

The family he considered as his... He swallowed away some bile. Would it be the same when his time would come? Callen remembered the misery he had felt when all of them were around when they said their last final goodbyes to Michelle... "Enough, Nell. I sure hope the trick works out well. I don't need the details." He decided to change the subject. "You know if Mira is still at the PT?"

She pressed a key on her ordinary looking watch, checked what she wanted to check and nodded. "She is, Callen. Gregg Jackson is with her."

He heaved a deep sigh, a simple and ordinary action which caused him more pain than he wanted to and he winced, which was not left unnoted.

"You're okay, Callen?"

He read the sudden worry in her hazel eyes and nodded. "Nothing to worry about. It's just... well, doctor Hoffmann was right, I'm not fully recovered yet."

"Far from recovered, you mean," Nell said with a sad smile. "Mira's doing fine, don't you think?"

He let her question sink in. Perhaps she was quite okay for the eye, but Callen had seen her eyes red and teary when Mira probably thought he would not notice. She had been honest and upright with him and no matter how he appreciated it, it worried him too, more than he shared with her so far.

"She says she's doing fine," he finally replied.

A sincere laugh sounded from his young colleague, making her disguise as a nurse less convincing.

"What?"

"You always say you're fine. I was just wondering if it runs in the family."

Callen chewed on her remark. Yes, it was awkward to be around with someone he met only two weeks ago, someone who was able to read his thoughts without asking. And it was kind of like the same the other way around – he darn well understood Mira's words were different from her real feelings. There were hesitations when it came to real trust, never mind her open attitude for the eye.  
With his father – with their father, he corrected himself – it was different. Complicated. Sam had told him, once, that the man was just like Callen: reluctant to share anything. Yet Callen had trouble to understand why, and wondered all the time if it was something he did wrong. With Mira he felt things could be different. There was a kind of bond which surprised him more than he could explain.  
"Perhaps it does, Nell," he nodded. Then he continued, changing the subject. "I wished though that she'd be in a different place right now."

Nell tilted her head slightly and asked "Why's that? I mean… since both of you still need medical care, it's the easiest way. Only one place to check, only one place to protect."

"Only one place to attack," Callen countered. He was about to sigh deeply but remembered how bad that hurt. It didn't matter since the action of keeping his breath made him cough, which hurt even worse and he winced once again.

Nell shook her head, serious again. "I'd better leave you to get some rest, Callen. I sure hope you are all ready to go and leave by tomorrow."  
She nodded in a goodbye and made the decision to contact Hetty about it all, since she did not want to discuss her worries with Callen himself.

Meanwhile, it left Callen to assess his thoughts once again, not really knowing how to handle the situation from this uncomfortable and weak position right now. If ever the Comescu-clan found out he was still alive, Mira would be in danger as well.  
It was saver to live their lives apart, he reasoned.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Mira had expressed her doubts about it only minutes later. "You can't be serious. I mean... just look at you. It's like only four days ago it looked like you were about to die and now—"  
He chuckled as an interruption but she read something else in his eyes. He looked so very tired. "I'm fine Mira."

There was sadness though over her face as she shook her head. "I wished you wouldn't do this."

"Do what?" Callen asked. Surely he understood what she meant. "I'm perfectly able to make my own considerations, you know. I've done so all my life."

Mira bit her lower lip for a mere second and chewed on her words as well. "You seem to expect the very worst every single hour you are awake."

"People may turn on you. Or betray you. It's better not to trust situations like this," Callen retorted. Some sort of shadow went over his face and Mira felt how he tried to shut down his feelings, like a wall was built between the two of them and she failed to reach him.

She swallowed several times before she said in a soft voice "Your friend Sam was right then. I'm very sorry to see how you prefer not to share. You prefer to keep your feelings to yourself. And that you seem to want to fight whatever it is you are fighting right now, on your own."  
Mira sniffed aloud, then lifted her chin as she continued and her blue eyes met his. "Has anybody asked you before if you are willing to lose… to lose people close to you, simply because YOU think you're better off alone? That letting go people who care for you is better than being the one who may feel vulnerable? Well, then listen carefully, for once. I am a sane human being and truth be said, I do feel vulnerable too but I don't really mind, because vulnerable means I care for others. Whereas you appear to think vulnerability means weakness. I'm so sorry for you, Callen. To me weakness means pushing away the ones who care for you."

She turned to leave his room, all teary now. Still, she added "I rather had never known about you then feeling… like this."

He knew he made a terrible mistake. "Mira… wait."

If she had the chance, she'd run as fast as she could, but it didn't matter. Even limping like she was at the moment, she'd be faster than he would be able to be in the first few weeks. Besides, she was just as hardheaded as he was.

Who had he been trying to convince, her? A sister. Family. Someone he should trust. It had been only hours before when he had told himself how special it was to understand without that many words what the other one felt. Being scared to lose her had made him dishonest to her and to himself.

In fact, she had used words even Hetty or Sam had never used. Weak? He didn't consider himself to be weak. But Mira was right, he had figured it all out so well. The best scenario he'd come up with was to live their separate lives. After all, that would keep her out of Harm's way.

But Callen never expected that making a rational decision like he made would hurt even more than his actual wounds.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

Only an hour and a half later FBI agent Gregg Jackson wheeled a calm but clearly angry Callen to another room where a physical therapist awaited them.  
"You okay?"

It was impossible to face the other man, and so Callen simply muttered something. It made Jackson chuckle softly. "Must be quite a person you let get under your skin, Mr. George."  
He only hesitated a mere second using the name they all were supposed to use for him.

"You got any siblings, Jackson? A sister, for example?"

Gregg Jackson shook his head "Only an older brother. How's that?"

Callen shrugged slightly. "I guess, um, everyone has a quarrel every now and then. Say, Gregg, will you — please stay alert, will you. In case she…"  
Again, he hesitated a few beats "Just to make sure Mira stays around, so we can leave this place somewhere late tomorrow."

"Will do so," Gregg Jackson smiled.

* * *

 _Okay... it may feel like a terrible cliffhanger, but please believe me: it is not! Thank you for reading!_


	17. Chapter 17

**Mira**

 **chapter 17**

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A/N: Wow, everybody. Thank you so much for all those great reviews. All those words really mean an awful lot to me! I sure hope you will like what you're reading in here. Keep in mind, the storyline is really coming to an end, soon.

* * *

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Kansas City Hospital || Kansas**

Mira had asked to go and sit outside. Nell curiously eyed the other woman and wondered how it was possible she saw so much of an angry team leader during an interrogation in someone who wasn't in the same line of work.

"Want to let me know what happened, Mira?"

Mira shrugged "Don't think I should share… It is something, um, between my brother and me."

"Hmm… he's gotten broody again?" Nell assumed. "Humor me… he mostly tries to break out of a hospital halfway surgery. Well, matter of speaking, of course. But yeah, honestly, I cannot remember any time Callen really managed to stay in a hospital as long as any physician wanted him to."

This time it caused some kind of smile on Mira's face, which was exactly what Nell wanted. "Believe me, Mira. We're used to discuss all kind of feelings, doubts, scenario's, whatever, when we're at work. And he usually comes up with the conclusion, which helps us to make the right decision, each and all of us."

"What do you want to say?"

Nell let her hands to up her head in an unknowingly way to rearrange her ponytail.  
The two of them occupied one of the coffee-tables outside – a nurse and a patient, like there were more, she noticed.

The sun warmed their faces and in a more relaxed setting, Nell decided it would be okay for Mira to know more about Callen. Things he would not tell himself, then again, no personal facts either.

"Perhaps... he missed pros and cons we usually give each other, and made his own conclusion. And I think he's upset because... he cares about you. Caring is rather new to him too. He's been betrayed a few times in the past by people he thought he loved. Maybe you ought to give it some time."

Mira nodded. "Perhaps you're right. Still, he made me feel like I was one of the persons who betrayed him too. But I let him know it's not me, but him who is having difficulties." She hesitated a while, then caught Nell's curious gaze. "Does he know about the Comescu connection already?"

Nell pursed her lips, sighed and shook her head. "Not that I know of. I mean... I haven't told him. Yet…"

"Because you already know he doesn't want to hear?"

Too sharp for an outsider, Nell admitted to herself. She chewed on the inside of her cheek and closed her eyes for a while.  
Mira was clever, sharp and alert. Like Callen, perhaps. She hesitated, studying the other woman for a few seconds. Like Callen, Mira had clear blue eyes which changed from warm to icy or to a deeper blue, depending on the mood. Her hair, cut in layers till shoulder length, varied in color from dark blond to light brown. She wasn't a simple female version of Callen, didn't really look exactly like her brother or their father, Garisson, Nell thought. She'd seen a picture of Clara Callen once, and perhaps Mira was more like their mother.  
But despite the fact that the brother and sister never met before, there were similarities in their stance and behavior which surprised her. Would anybody recognize them as family? Not necessarily, unless they were together. Which was good, Nell figured. She pondered another few moments about Mira's question, then replied with a short smile.

"Guess you're right. Your big brother wasn't in the right mood, still, I am the one who should let him know."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Meanwhile || two floors up **

"What do you mean, make sure she stays around?" Gregg asked, frowning when he let Callen's message sink in. "There's no reason for her to leave right now, is there? And well, since I am here, Nell is with her, so…"

Calmer than he really was, Callen breathed in a deep as he dared. Which was better now than hours before, he mused. After the next half hour with a physical therapist it should improve even more.  
He explained "I kind of screwed up, I think, Gregg. So I was simply wondering if you could mend some of the damage I already did today. My coworkers will be around later this afternoon, and depending on what it is the doc says, we'll be off tomorrow morning. Keeping Mira in here as well for the next twenty hours-something is all we need."

The grey eyes of the other man were serious now and he nodded "Sure. I'll head over to them." Gregg pressed a button on his watch which showed the position of Nell and Mira, then said "Looks like they're enjoying some sunshine right now. Which sounds pretty good to me too."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

An incoming message appeared on Nell's watch, and she studied it during their conversation.  
Gregg let her know he'd preferred to switch places again. He'd left one of their guns with Callen, and he explained that he wanted to make sure Mira stayed around.

Although Nell figured she wasn't showing any emotion, Mira curiously studied Nell and asked "Something wrong?"

"Not really, no."  
Absurd. How come Mira read her mind even though she wasn't part of the discussion?

"Gregg's on his way down. The moment he'll be here, I'll go up," Nell said. "I'll discuss this, um, this connection between you and Leah with your big brother. Promise…"

Mira nodded, relieved now.

Then, from one of the benches nearer to the entrance, a woman who sat in there alone started shouting an alarming 'Nurse!'.  
It took a while before Nell looked up. Obviously, the woman meant her right now, as she was the only one dressed like a nurse.

Mira smiled and rolled her eyes. "One of the definite benefits of walking around in uniform. Lucky you," she chuckled.

She sent a smile back at Mira, but with a serious face, Nell then got up. "I really should go and get a real nurse before all these people discover how fake I am."

Mira's attention went to whatever it was Nell was doing. It was a mistake, but finding out was too late.  
From behind her, strong arms dragged her from the chair while at the same time a damp cloth was held on her mouth and nose. There was no way she could possibly struggle back.

Too late, Nell discovered that being distracted, even by somebody who really needed help, proved to be a big mistake. Before she could draw her gun and try and do something, Mira was yanked into a car which immediately sped off. There was no time for Nell to warn Gregg what was going on.

However, who-ever was driving the car was too desperate to get away very fast. The collision of the white Toyota Prius with an outgoing ambulance was inevitable and Nell inhaled before she said aloud 'Oh my God'.

At that same moment, Gregg Jackson was next to her, his gun at the ready and immediately crossing the road to where both cars stood. The Prius' motor was still slightly roaring, simply because its driver was still behind the wheel though not moving any longer.

While Nell kept her gun aimed at the person in the backseat, she noticed how Gregg gently lifted the limp body of Mira from the other seat. She wanted to know but hardly dared to ask "Is she..."

Gregg shook his head and answered her not finished question "Alive."  
He kneeled and cautiously put her on the tarmac, carefully keeping his hand behind her neck.  
Some blood trickled from a headwound and he noticed a dark and wet spot on her right upper arm. Blood too, he knew. He remembered she'd been shot earlier in the same arm. He figured the wound opened again.

"She's probably been drugged," he told Nell, pointing at a cloth which still rested on Mira's sweater. "She's been lucky, since she wasn't even buckled up. Which cannot be said for the guy who's been driving this car straight into the other car."

From the ambulance, the driver and his colleague stumbled out, both in shock.

"Can you call, um, any other paramedics?" Nell immediately asked them, never losing her gaze off the other passenger.

One of the men nodded and reached into the ambulance again for a walky-talky. The other slowly sank down — not in a position to respond.

In the meanwhile public was gathering around the scene, so discussing whatever it was that was going on was nearly impossible.

"Jones... you need a hand with that guy?" Jackson asked, glancing at the small, young woman. Sure, she was capable enough. But neither Gregg nor Nell had really expected such a sudden action.

Nell shook her head. "Not yet. Still, we could use some of your men, you know, to take this over," she added.  
There was more she wanted to share with Gregg, like the need for a quick interrogation and for more protection. Especially in this period without any of her own NCIS people around. From this position Nell was worried about Callen, who might be in danger too. She could only hope that the rush from behind them was from paramedics hurrying towards the scene.

Meanwhile, her mind was in a whirl. Why this unconventional attempt to abduct Mira? And how come she had let herself be distracted so easily?

Facing Callen would be hard, harder than she ever experienced before.

She let him down, failed to protect Mira...

All she could do right now was watch how Mira was being taken inside into the hospital, and she nodded towards Gregg – he should be the one to accompany her.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Kansas City Hospital || Kansas, two hours later**

In one of the small but private rooms in the hospital, Callen was studying Nell's and Gregg's faces and this time, not calm at all.

"They're not that stupid, and I guess it hasn't been difficult to find Mira. Our men studied the footage of the past few days," Gregg explained. "Their car, this white Toyota, showed up yesterday. Maybe they already spotted Mira by that time, I can't tell. The only thing our agency found out by the interrogation, was that these men wanted to use Mira as some kind of leverage to get Tomas out of jail. It's been a matter of deduction. Hearing a siren and the sound of some centralist calling a doctor, plus the knowledge of Tomas Comescu was being arrested and held here in Kansas."

"So they found out after you called Mira's friend. A Comescu," Callen scoffed, more or less addressing Nell.

Although she felt how she blushed, Nell replied "I know. I, um, we never concentrated on the background noises. We only were very aware of WHAT Mira was going to say. Not where. I'm… I'm so very sorry about this, Callen."

He really felt weak and wished his partner would be around too. Sam always managed to be the calm and reasonable one who was able to help him make the right decision.  
Instead, this time it was Gregg who spoke. "Like we found out after interrogating Martin Ciutaco, he and the deceased Olson Martiscu were supposed to take Mira to Chicago. They were going to keep her as a hostage, even if and after the Kansas authorities would let Tomas Comescu go. Ciutaco could not tell our men of the plans they have with Mira though."

"But why Mira?" Nell wanted to know. "I mean, they could've taken anyone as a hostage, right?"

Gregg shrugged. "Consider it as some kind of punishment. Mira's friend Leah knew from her brother that in one way or another, Mira decided to stop working the way Tomas and his partner expected her to work. Instead, she chose Callen's side. Which means betraying the Comescu family, as a matter of fact."

"Comescus won't like that," Nell shook her head.

"Understatement of the year. It would mean some kind of new blood feud, I suppose," Callen snapped.

He wondered if Mira already understood how this worked, and if he explained clearly enough what the outcomes had been to his family, their family. This… it came even on top of that, although for as far as he knew, the Comescus didn't know about the family connection, yet. It made him worried sick, and again, it was the reason he and Mira quarreled earlier on: being apart would be so much saver in his opinion.

Nell suggested in a small voice "Well, Tomas Comescu is in jail. There is this uncle, Vigo, who was after you in the first place. We don't really know him, or know where he is at this moment. And the one other member of their family is Leah Comescu. Actually, I considered her innocent. We could try and tempt Vigo to come for Mira once again, and arrest him?"

"Then call her friend again, damnit," Callen yelled.  
Having been kept in the dark about the previous phone call which Sam had approved of and Nell had listened to, word by word, made him real mad. But above all, he felt sick to the stomach about the friendship between his sister and a member of the Comescu family.

Paler now since she wondered how she'd been too sloppy this time, Nell nodded. "You — please don't blame Mira about this, Callen. There was no way she could have known about this beforehand. And again, this has nothing to do with her being a Callen."

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

No matter the fact that the doctor told him that Mira would be okay in a matter of days, Callen hated to see her like this in a hospital bed. A concussion, three ribs which were cracked and the wound on her right arm which needed new stitches. She'd suffer from serious headaches now, and for his little sister, resting was certainly the best medicine at the moment.

Right now, he was able to sit upright for a couple of hours and they really should get going back to Los Angeles soon. In fact, he couldn't wait to leave this hospital.

However, leaving meant leaving together. And it meant that they all had to wait. Callen sure expected another approach of the two remaining Comescus. Only half an hour Nell Jones made the phone-call to Leah Comescu. She kept to her role as a nurse and told Leah that her friend's telephone was found at a scene of a traffic accident, and that her friend was hospitalized.

Yeah, they'd wait. During the wait, he needed to come up with some kind of a plan to once and for all end the blood feud between his family and the Comescus.

* * *

 _Thank you all for reading!_

Kni®benrots


	18. Chapter 18

**Mira**

 **chapter 18**

* * *

Disclaimer: all credits to this magnificent team of NCIS Los Angeles go to Shane Brennan, R. Scott Gemmill and CBS.

* * *

A/N: This is just to let you all know how much I appreciate your comments on my writing. Really, I am very grateful for it! By now, I cannot remember whether or not I have thanked everyone who left a review. If not: here it is, thank you!  
As I said before, this is about the final chapter of this storyline. So, please do enjoy what you're reading and be so kind and let me know what you're thinking about it. Mind you, it may end in some kind of an unexpected way. There will be only one more final chapter after this one.

Kni®benrots

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o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Kansas City Hospital || Kansas**

Back in his own room, next to Mira's, Callen rested back in the too soft pillows of the bed. Resting was okay. Perhaps it was the best way to let his thoughts go over the different scenarios he might be dealing with. Or to be more specific: they might be dealing with.

Was it something he really blamed Mira of, being befriended with another woman who had Romanian roots too? Being the sole child of a single parent, it must have been a true feel of recognition when she met with Leah Comescu. Another girl, same age, same high school, same background.  
Callen knew he shouldn't be the one to judge. He had longed for a real friend so many times during his youth. It was a normal thing, he figured.  
However, he knew and saw how easy the Comescu-clan managed to find partners to help to do some dirty work as well. Without being truly aware, Mira may have been an easy target to work for them too. She may have been the chosen one to transport him in her temporary home, this motorhome. Did her friend willingly use her or was that woman as naïve and innocent as his sister was?

He sighed deeply - with such little pain that it surprised him. Had they made the right decision? Until now, he had not discussed HIS plan with Mira, like he hadn't known of her plan either. True, both Sam and Nell encouraged Mira to make a phone-call, while today, he nearly forced Nell to do so.

He shook his head and slowly got up. He had to see if Mira really understood what was going on or not.

Some slow minutes later, he took a seat near Mira's bed again and watched her. The dim light of this hospital room combined with the pale blue of all the linen didn't work for Mira. He'd seen her stronger than this and Callen was sure there would be more time to spend together whenever this was all over.

By now, she was also just an innocent patient, sleeping peacefully. Long, dark lashes stood out against her pale face. A bandage covered her head near her right temple and there were some bruises peeking from underneath that. He'd seen victims of all kind of crimes, incidents and accidents, during his career. He had sat beside a hospital bed when Kensi was injured so badly. Beside Sam's side, or Deeks', Hetty's... people he knew so well and who he considered as his 'family'.  
But this... even though he knew who his father was, it wasn't the same feeling he had this time, getting to know an unknown sister - and more family. Garrison was a person who rather disappeared and preferred to avoid everything and every discussion when it got personal. There was never the warmth Callen had hoped for, never the answers to all questions Callen had.

Was it because of Garrison's character or was it him, failing to trust, to share?

Inwardly, he shook his head. It was how Garrison was. Mira was different, probably more like his, how théír, mother. The fear of sharing, of trusting and caring — that might be his own troublesome childhood.

He looked up and concentrated on the woman next to him. She stirred in her sleep and he figured she was going to wake up in a matter of minutes.

"You're awake, Mira?" he gently asked.

She moaned lightly and he knew how she felt. How many times he'd been in that same position himself? The moment when perhaps the pain set in before one truly realized what happened and where you are. And Callen knew all too well that in a matter of moments, the pain would take the upper hand and he hated the idea, for her.

No matter what, Callen felt he needed to share his feelings and the actions which were taken. He sighed as deep as he possibly dared and put his left elbow on the armrest in a way to turn to Mira, even though she wasn't facing him right now.  
"You know, it's... I never meant to get you out of sight or get rid of you at any means, because of the ties between you and me, Mira. It is more that I'm afraid you may be in danger, because of me. Or perhaps it's not because of me, but because of my work. It may sound stupid to you, or standoffish," he said, his voice rather soft.

Mira opened her eyes, tiredly, and nodded, immediately reaching for her head afterwards, her expression one of pain.

"You shouldn't move too much," he warned, nearly upset. "Not with a concussion like you have"

She closed her eyes for a brief moment and hummed instead of nodding.

"You... what happened was all the doing of these Comescus. Gregg's people found out about it. This is what I was afraid what could happen, you know..."

Neither of them spoke for a couple of minutes, then Callen added "We called your friend Leah again, you know."

There was a frown between her eyes now and she asked "Why?"

"Why?" he repeated. "First of all, she's entitled to know you were caught up in an accident." He hesitated another beat before he wanted to continue.

Her voice was hoarse when she interrupted: "That's not the real reason, is it? You think Leah —"

"How else?" Callen didn't even have to finish his question. He read the doubt, the regrets and the pain in her eyes.

"Again, why? Why would she do that to me? And why did they come for me, Callen?"

He was about to explain, but hesitated when footsteps came their way and the doors to Mira's private hospital room slid open.

"Sir? Miss Constanta needs to rest now." The young nurse smiled his way and added "The same goes for you, actually, mister George."

"You're right, Mabel. Give us one more moment please, will you?"

"Of course. I'll be back in five minutes. I suppose my um, my co-worker - and Mabel air quoted this time with a grin - will be in here by then?"

Callen understood she meant Nell and he smiled back. "She will," he answered.

"I'll leave you then," the woman said as she turned and left. He waited a few beats until they heard the doors close again and he knew they wouldn't be overheard.

"Tomas must've let someone, probably Leah, know you let him down and that instead, you chose to help the enemy. A Callen. Which makes you their enemy too… Remember, this is without them knowing you are my little sister, sora-mea."  
Those last two words tasted so good, in his opinion.

She swallowed a few times. "So you say... Leah and I won't be—"

It would be hard for her but he knew there was no way to deny the conclusion for her. "There's no need to sugarcoat this, Mira. She must be the one," he nodded in addition to his words. "That is why we decided to give her a call, again. It's the only way we will ever know for sure."

"But then Nell said they only wanted to use... use me as some kind of leverage. To force you or other authorities to let Tomas Comescu go."

He clenched his jaw and shook his head. "And afterwards they wanted to drive you to Chicago. Don't look for any happy end, Mira. You wouldn't survive this. Instead, every Comescu on this globe is going to consider you as some kind of prey."

She didn't reply and looked away. But he read it anyway, the way she sucked in her breath, the flaring of her nostrils. Losing faith in someone you trusted sucked. It was a lesson he learned so many years before.

He nodded and took his time to get on his feet again.

"Nell will be here any moment now. And Hetty and Sam are arriving in a few hours from now too."

With them, he'd go through the plan once again. He was pretty sure all they would have to do was wait until the Comescu came for Mira once more. Then, in some kind of warm reflex, he bent over and kissed her, his little sister, on her forehead.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Kansas City Hospital || Kansas, three hours later**

Callen made his bed rise until he was nearly seated.

"So, how've been doing? Did you behave yourself?" Sam wanted to know. He was happy to see his partner doing much better than those few days earlier.

"I'm fine, Sam. And it'll be even better the moment I will smell the fresh Los Angeles air," he chuckled.

"That, Mr. Callen, will happen only after we get some kind of white smoke coming from Miss Blye and Mr. Deeks, who still are checking some more connections between Armenian groups and the Comescu family. They are being assisted by your friend."

Callen frowned at the words of his operations manager, and so Hetty added "Arkady Kolcheck works with Mr. Beale at this very moment."

"Seriously… you let him work from the Boathouse?" he asked.

"Worse. He works with Eric straight from Ops," Sam said, able to hide his own surprise of Hetty's approval earlier that week.

"What happened, Hetty? When ever did you learn to trust him? After all, I remember you called him a Russian crook too many times."

A rare smile appeared on the face of the petite woman. "Consider that a mistake, Mr. Callen. He is really serious when it comes to your safety."

Seriously now, Callen mentioned "I'm quite concerned about Mira's, actually. Did Nell mention what happened?"

"She did." Hetty puffed out some breath before she said "By the way, where has Miss Jones gone to?"

"She's supposed to be with Mira," Callen said.

Hetty nodded. "Well then, perhaps I should check on Clara's girl. Tell me, has Miss Jones had some decent sleep lately, or should I send her off until she's ready for another shift?"

Callen really hadn't a clue. During the moments he was awake and at daytime, either Nell or Gregg Jackson was around and he figured Jackson had taken care of more security personnel for the nights. It wasn't the way Callen used to take care for his team and that was an awkward feeling, he now realized and he felt how he reddened when he replied. "Can't tell you, Hetty. You'd better ask her yourself."

She patted his arm once she was about to leave his room. "It's alright, Mr. Callen. After all you have not exactly been in the best shape, although I am glad you are so much better than last time I've seen you."  
In fact, she was surprised that her lead agent apparently recovered quite alright.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

"How're you really doing, buddy?" Sam wanted to know.

"Could ask you the same," Callen responded, his voice soft though. "I mean…"

The broad shoulders of his partner shrugged, then slumped. "I don't know, G. Really…" He shook his head and wasn't facing his friend. "In fact, I'm quite alright with this. Well, not with you in here, of course. But with being distracted from all of it… you know, it works for me." He sighed deeply.

Callen fell silent too, feeling for his friend.

"So?" Sam wanted to know.

"Still feeling sore. And tired," Callen confessed. It was quite an understatement and as ever, Sam understood there were unspoken words too.

"What're you going to do once you're back in LA?"

"How would I know? The only thing I really hope for is to be allowed to leave the hospital, in here but also in LA. Recovering… And probably be back as soon as possible at work, even if it is for desk duty alone."

Sam frowned, then asked "And your sister?"

"What about her? Hetty just said Nell told you all about what happened."

"She did. You know, Nell does feel guilty about what happened. She said she let Mira out of sight."

Callen huffed and said "Out of sight? Perhaps for only ten seconds. It simply came as some kind of raid which no-one expected. If ever she felt guilty, you ought to be too. After all, the two of you encouraged Mira to make a call to her friend. And for as far as we know by now, that is why and how they managed to come for her."

"If so… well, we didn't see this coming indeed," Sam shrugged.

Both of them fell silent once more, then finally Callen said, his voice low and rather flat now "You know, I thought that the farther away she would be from me, the safer she'd be. By now, I know better. The Comescus who survived, won't call off the hunt until she's dead."

"Not exactly any different from your situation," Sam remarked. "Although by now, they expect you aren't around any longer."

His eyes were closed now and he just hummed.

"It was a great thing G, you know, how you little sister planned this all in Los Angeles."

There was an even softer hum, and Sam decided he wouldn't prod. His friend simply needed his rest. After all, it was only about a week before that he'd found Callen and his team in this very same hospital, not knowing how bad Callen's injuries would turn out to be. Yet here he was, sitting next to his friend's hospital bed and expecting to return to Los Angeles early next morning. And Sam silently decided he was about to have his friend's back from now on, again.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Kansas City Hospital || Kansas, meanwhile**

Once again, Hetty was astonished now she watched Mira. She was asleep, and paler than she should be. Still, it was as if she was watching Clara like she had done so many years before. Older though. Clara had been just over 32 years old when she, Hetty, finally reached her. Too late to save her life, and never aware of the youngest child she was watching now.

This youngest child. A woman who was about 10 years older than her mother ever had been.

She let her gaze go over the other woman's face. Yes, striking, these similarities which were there. But then, when she'd see Mira and her boy next to each other, she knew it was just as obvious. Siblings. And like so many years before, she made the silent promise to Clara Callen that she would protect her children as good as she could. She breathed out heavily.

With the soft sound of Hetty's sigh, Mira's eyes opened. She looked around quite confused.

"Why, miss Constanta. I didn't mean to wake you up at this hour of the day."

"You... it wasn't because of you. I think I'm just done with sleeping."

"I see... I must say that you were in a much better condition last time we've met, dear girl," Hetty mentioned. "But then, we never expected anyone would be looking for you, to be honest."  
She closely watched how the expression on Mira's face changed into something between sad and angry.

"Listen", Mira said, "I'm glad the other trick worked and that I... that your employee will be quite safe at the moment. I did not see this coming and to be honest, I still don't believe what Callen told me, that Leah betrayed me. Nor that any of Leah's relatives would be looking for me for some kind of revenge. If you're here to try and convince me, then—"

Hetty raised her arm "Actually, Miss Constanta, the reason I am in here right now, is because Miss Jones needed her rest. Just like you do, I would say. All in order to be able to leave for the next flight to the West coast in—" she glanced at her left wrist for the time and continued "in only about six hours from now."

"Six hours from now." She sighed deeply.

Hetty nodded. "Perhaps you, and I, should try to get some more rest. It will be a long day, dear girl."

Mira closed her eyes and she just hummed.

After a few silent minutes, Hetty slowly got up and left the room. There would be a waiting area where she would be able to meditate and take her rest, without letting her guard down.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Kansas City Hospital || Kansas, five hours later**

"Hetty Lange and Nell Jones are preparing everything outside, with some of my men," Gregg Jackson let Mira know. "So, you will be back home in a couple of hours from now."

"Home?" she frowned and shook her head, which made her moan softly.

The tall FBI agent nodded and smiled her way "The place you live. You know, home?"

"You were at home, last night?" Mira asked.  
She studied his face only shortly, but noticed he looked rested. He'd shaved and he smelled like some fresh soap. Now he was closer, she noticed his dark hair was still slightly wet from a recent shower, she figured. He probably hadn't been around for a while. Although he was wearing the nurse's uniform once again, which looked quite good on him, she agreed, she knew he wasn't one of the regular street detectives FBI had. Those were his men, he was talking about.

Gregg Jackson nodded once again. "I sure was. But now, you should be looking forward to leaving this place as well, right?"

This time, Mira slowly nodded, then shook her head. She swallowed and said "My home, though the temporary one, was destroyed, somewhere near this place Manhattan. There's no other place I'd call home right now." The realization hit her quite hard. "I should… should I tell Callen, you think?"

With another gentle smile, Gregg sat down on the edge of her bed and he patted her arm. "They all know, Mirela."

"No one calls me Mirela."

"I just did, didn't I, Mirela?" he chuckled. "But just like I said, they all know. I heard that little lady mention she found you a pretty safe place somewhere in the city of Angels."

"But I… She didn't even mention it to me. Besides, who says I want to live in there?"

"You don't?" Gregg raised his brows. In a friendly way though, she noticed, and again, she shrugged. "I should get dressed then." A nervous and nearly shy smile came his way.

"You should," Gregg agreed, "Still, I think you'd better wait. There should be one more medical examination now. Same goes for your brother, I've heard. Once the 'all clear' sounds, you're about to get going. My men will accompany your team straight to the airport."

"They're not 'my team, Gregg, and you know that." Mira knew she sounded frustrated. Probably because by now, other people figured they could make decisions which weren't hers.

Again, he smiled. "Bet you they will want to make you feel like it in a matter of half a day."

It was true. Sam had told her he'd be having her back like he had Callen's. "Thanks", she said.

Footsteps came their way. "Doctor's coming to see you," Gregg said as he got up. "Counting down now, Mirela. You'll be fine, cleared out in a matter of minutes," he added with another of his relaxed smiles.

Mira smiled back, feeling better indeed. The sliding doors opened and an older man entered the room. She turned her attention to the man, then shook her head and gasped "Comescu."

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 _Thank you for reading!_


	19. Chapter 19

**Mira**

 **Chapter 19**

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A/N To Linda, Mulderette, Wotumba, F4llon, countrygirluk56, Me, Miri130480, BlackBear53, Natz29: thank you so much for leaving your review with the previous chapter.  
And here we are: the final chapter of this storyline. I hope you enjoyed the ride!

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Disclaimer: Recognizable characters are not mine. Borrowing them is the nicest thing CBS & Shane Brennan allowed me to do. All other places and names that were used in this chapter are fictional. Whenever they resemble actual locations or persons, living are dead, this is pure coincidental.

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o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Kansas City Hospital || Kansas**

Time was an awkward thing. Especially right now.  
There was the immediate recognition, within about a millisecond. She had seen this man before or perhaps Leah and Tomas looked like him - more than a bit. The green eyes, high cheekbones, the dark-brown brows which were too broad.

'Comescu'. The very same moment, the very same millisecond perhaps, that the thought hit her mind, she'd gasped his name.

But then, although everyone's reflexes were just as fast, time seemed to pass in suddenly slow motion.

Gregg was fast. He had his gun in his hand before Mira had blinked only once. This Comescu was faster, or probably simply better prepared. How did he get past security, Mira wondered, glancing at this man while she still was laying in this hospital bed - frozen. It was as if she was watching a movie, instead of being a part of it. This happened right here, right now.

The strangely muffled puff of Comescu's gun sounded and it was as if she could follow a flash of fire which went straight to Gregg's lean upper body before it disappeared.

Time was an awkward thing. It seemed to last for minutes and minutes before she saw the FBI agent stagger back until he more or less stumbled over the bed Mira was still in. Until that moment, nothing else appeared to happen.

Then, all of a sudden, three, or probably even more, things took place in the very same seconds. Gregg Jackson toppled over and – in some sort of half twist – ended up backwards against her bed. In that same move, his gun landed on the bed as well. And while it did, Mira noticed how that strangely benumbed feeling left her all of a sudden. At the very same time, this Comescu aimed his gun once again. This time at her.

"You… you betrayed my family. Nimeni nu-mi trădează familia [nobody betrays my family]!"

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

"Sam? You hear that?"  
Despite his own optimistically sentiment since he was finally about to go home, there was the sudden worry. Of course, all kind of noises sounded in a place like this. Noises he never got used to and never wanted to hear again soon, either.  
However, what he'd heard this time was different from usual. The thud, with a none defined different sound just a second before it. And from what he figured, this came from Mira's room.  
"This is not good, man!" Callen mentioned.

"Jackson is with her."  
To Sam, that was as quite a reassurance. The FBI agent was competent, yet, and he knew that, just as mortal as anyone else.  
That was the only reply he gave, before he swiftly rose, his gun at the ready. And Callen never minded the easy going jogging set he was wearing, he was up in a matter of seconds later, determined to follow his partner.

Before he'd even left the private room where he'd been hospitalized for over a full week, there were three loud cracks. Definitely from Mira's room, and he swallowed away his sudden fear. Sure, Callen - like the others - had expected some kind of threat. But definitely from the outside. Why else were Hetty and Nell outside, checking? Why else were Gregg's FBI men outside? Nobody really saw an inside action being a real or possible option.  
Yet now Callen knew he'd underestimated the power and the dedication of the Comescu family.

Sam halted and motioned to his partner to do the same. Callen was slow and far from a condition to come into action. He was panting too, and Sam heard the wheezing sound which emphasized his friend's poor shape. Still, Callen's skilled hand carried one of the standard NCIS issued handguns just like Sam did.

The scene they faced was different from anything both men expected. An older man, a physician apparently, blocked the pathway between the hospital bed and the entrance door. Shot, several times.

The same went for Gregg Jackson. The FBI agent lay on the cold, grey linoleum floor. Callen squeezed his eyes. The agent was still breathing, but bleeding heavily.

And the only person they spotted with a gun, was Mira Constanta.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

The odd first minute, everything was silent. Then came the yells and the fearful shouts and whispers. Because, after all, there were never gunshots in this hospital. Were they in danger?  
Who were those men who were ready to go into another hospital room – one large, dark man, dressed in jeans and a brown, long sleeved shirt. The other one, shorter, was pale and dressed in a plain grey jogging pants and ditto shirt. But both carried guns. Definitely not good…

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

She sat nearly upright in the hospital bed, one foot bent, the other forward and held the gun pointed to who-ever may enter the room.  
"Drop the gun, Mira," Sam demanded in a low voice. Had she been deceiving everyone around, without them knowing it?

The woman glanced at Sam. She didn't really see him, nor Callen, still in some kind of shock, but still not lowering the gun. Callen stared at her, then at both men who were shot.

Sam repeated his demand "I said, drop the gun!"

Callen let his breath escape slowly through his nose, then handed his gun to his partner and he stepped into the room, carefully avoiding the doctor's body. With his arm he reached for the gun, his gaze never leaving her eyes. He read horror in it, and the despair and the fear. There was no hesitation when he took the gun from his sister's hand.

Once he did, he sat down next to her and embraced his sister. It felt odd, warm, new yet also… like it should feel, okay.  
From the corner of his eye, he noticed how Sam checked both men. With the doctor, he shook his head, knowing Callen understood the situation. Another doctor entered, hesitating though, but he motioned for the nurse who waited outside. "Call for more assistance," the doctor, in who Sam recognized Hoffmann, the same physician who treated Callen.

"Is he…" Mira asked. It sounded muffled since she still leaned against Callen's chest.

He caught his partner's gaze and Sam replied, after a confirmation of Hoffmann, "Jackson will be okay."

Callen felt how Mira's breath changed into short hiccups and he knew she'd started to cry. He softly rubbed her back and let her. It seemed to last for hours until her last sob sounded.

"He's a Comescu, Callen."

"Jackson?"

"Not Gregg. Of course not Gregg. The man who dressed up like a doctor. He's a Comescu. He… he took a gun — no, he had his gun all ready. And I recognized him. He — Tomas looked like him. I called his name and then… he shot Gregg. Just like that."  
She swallowed several times and looked Callen in the eyes.  
"You were right. I was wrong. It must've been Leah who told him about me."

"There's no 'wrong', Mira," Callen said. "Now, let's go to my room. I think we need someone to check on you."

She pretty much agreed, and he led her away from the small room which looked like a warzone right now.  
"You lie down now," he told her. "I'll be right back, okay?"

"But… what if he comes back?" she asked.

Callen shook his head. "This guy will never be back, Mira. Besides, Sam and I will be right here, and so is Nell, and Hetty."  
He noticed she was exhausted. "We're right around the corner. Just… try and relax."

She wouldn't, and he knew. It was so easy to say it, however so difficult to handle in the same time.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

He watched how Nell did the dirty job; taking pictures of the deceased man.  
Then Callen addressed Sam "You didn't really think…" He cocked his head a little "I mean, the way you approached Mira, like if she were the criminal around."

"How many times we've been wrong, G? I know, not that many times. Still, feeling at ease with somebody could easily be the largest danger we deal with."

"Damn, buddy. She's my sister, right? You know that, and perhaps you even knew it for sure before I did?" Callen argued.

"Alright, alright…" Sam raised his arms. "I surrender. My mistake, G."

"Guys...," Nell interrupted. "Quit the quarrel please. There are more important things now. I've sent these photos over to Eric. If Mira's right, we need to know which Comescu we're dealing with. Who the John Doe, or the Comescu in here, really is. And I suggest someone should go and see Leah Comescu. Perhaps I'm wrong, but to me it sounds as if your plan proved to be working, Callen. But I'm so sorry about… all this."

"Right. About this Leah, I think Kensi and Deeks can go and pay her a visit," Sam said. "I'm going to ask Hetty about that." He turned and went looking for their boss.

Nell sighed deeply. "You spoke to Hoffmann, Callen? I mean, will Jackson be alright?"  
She too was worried about the FBI agent whom she worked with during the past few days. Now she talked with her coworker, the lead agent, she noticed he looked tired and pale, and she remembered it was because of his health that they still were around in Kansas. She asked "And you? How're doing?"

He just shrugged and Nell continued "Look, I know you're eager to get back home. Right now, you ought-a find a place to rest. Let us do the job."

Callen knew she was sincere and she was right. It didn't mean though that he liked it. "I'll be with Mira," he said.

Much to his surprise, Hoffmann was in the room as well and he raised his hand to Callen as in a hushing motion. Then, Hoffmann gestured to him to leave the room again and once they were, Hoffmann sat down on one of the chairs.  
"She's asleep, and she needs it."

"I know. It wasn't easy for her, and she isn't in the best condition as it is, right?" Callen agreed.

Hoffmann nodded. "If it was up to me, I'd keep her for at least another night in here."

"No way", Callen said. "She's with us and we're leaving tonight."

"You are?" Hoffmann raised his brows. "Well then, I suggest you take some rest too. And may I remind you that your sister went through some weeks that were quite frightening for a civilian. Wounds may heal, but for the soul healing may take so much more time."

"Now, those are such very true words, doctor Hoffmann."  
The physician looked around in shock, since he never heard Hetty Lange coming near. Of course it was different from Callen. In ordinary situations, Callen would have chuckled. Not in this situation. He just nodded in confirmation, agreeing to the message Hoffmann gave and understanding what he meant.

Hetty continued "But first, I would have thought you would want to tell us more about agent Jackson's situation."

Hoffmann nodded. "He will be alright. Right now he's in surgery."

"Keep us in the loop, will you." The adrenaline left his body right now and Callen felt utterly tired as he leaned back in the chair.  
Hetty sent him a short smile and closed her eyes for the briefest moment as an agreement.

"Let me walk with you, Mr. Hoffmann. There are some things that need to be discussed."  
Hetty counted on Sam to stay around. As ever. Just a few more hours. By now, she had taken every precaution that was needed.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Lanfranco Street, Los Angeles || Three weeks later**

Like before, Callen came walking to the front door, only this time joined by Sam.  
"I'm glad to have you in here," Mira said. She opened the door further to let them in.

Despite her cheerful welcome, Callen noticed she was nervous too. He embraced her, still surprised by the plain and simple comfort he felt doing this. Still, he was worried about her. She definitely lost weight and there were dark circles around her eyes. Worse than some days before. He could ask her again how she slept, and if there were nightmares, and how she was doing. But Mira would probably ignore his questions. Stubborn – like he was. It ran in the family.  
He sighed deeply, then asked her in a soft voice "You've seen Garrison this week?" Callen still had difficulties calling Garrison 'father'.

Mira shook her head. "Only on the day we arrived in here and your boss took him to see us. There's just..." She sighed deeply and continued "you. This is some kind of prison, actually. With four wardens, well, US Marshalls in fact, one inside and three out. I even need to tell them when I plan my bathroom visits."  
It sounded nearly funny but Callen understood it never was.

From the small kitchen, Sam interrupted. "Is it what I think it is that smells so good in here, Mira?"

"I don't know. It's a kind of casserole, like my mãmicã made. She called it tochitarã. Thought you might like it."

Sam sighed deeply. So many times when Callen had joined his family for dinner, Michelle had prepared casseroles. Michelle loved to make them, and Sam loved to eat them. And Michelle had thought Callen was fond of them. Then he snorted, remembering Callen's confession once that he really didn't like them. "Sounds and smells mouthwatering, Mira."

Callen pouted shortly and nodded to Sam's words. "What he says, Mira."

Sam started chuckling, and Mira shook her head. It was something she definitely missed, this bantering between both friends.  
"You'll have to wait another ten minutes though," she said. "And before you're gonna ask – none of the Marshalls is joining us. All four of them will be watching whatever there is to watch."  
She shrugged, then gestured at the couch which nearly filled the whole living room,

Sam waited until Callen sat down and joined him.

"So… you're back at work?" Mira wanted to know.  
Callen rested back in the comfortable couch and he nodded as a confirmation. Sam smiled, watching his friend. It was good to see his partner like this. Softer, but never distracted or less determined.  
It was Sam who responded. "He is back indeed, more or less".

Until now, Callen wasn't too sure how much time it would take for him to be really able to do the things he wanted to do. His days were filled with PT and too much paperwork at their office. Sure, he had joined Sam during some stakeouts and interrogations. It wasn't the real thing, yet, but he was glad to be up and running. He left Sam's boat where he'd been recovering most of the time and returned to his own house.  
He decided to change the subject. "Hetty wanted us to hand you this," Callen said, motioning to a box of the size of a shoebox which Sam hat put next to him. He was rather curious about the box which Hetty put in the back of his car.

Her blue eyes lit up and she opened it immediately. "Ah," she said. There were magazines and some books she took out of the box, checked them and put them on the small coffee table.  
"Lonely Planet," Sam recognized. He took one of the books, a travel guide. "Middle Americas… And South Africa. Vietnam. All yours?" he asked, checking the different destinations and publishers.

She simply nodded. "At least some of the articles in the magazine. The guides, yes, I wrote them. There's hours and hours of work in this. I guess this bunch of paper is also the reason why Michael left. And actually, I was working on a series of articles of one of the more obvious ways to travel through the States, by using a motorhome." Mira fell silent.

Callen gazed at his younger sister. There was a life she lived which he hardly knew of. "You traveled a lot?"

"Sure did. It's my job, but above that, it's something I really love to do. A way of life, I suppose."

There was a beep from the small kitchen and she got up. "Dinner's ready," she said, optimistically changing the subject once again.

The three of them sat down and enjoyed eating together and the food as well. To Sam, it was good to be with his friend and partner; good to see how Callen was more relaxed than he usually was. Not only that, the same went for him. Too many nights he spent alone on his boat and missed his wife more than before.

When she put the empty dishes on the kitchen counter, Mira asked "So, about this situation… Any chance you can tell me something on how it's going?"

Callen licked his lips. The situation Mira was talking about was the threat of the Comescu family. It should be 'his' situation as well, but then Mira had come up with the best distraction which enabled him to be around. He glanced at Sam, who hummed a bit.  
"We shouldn't talk about it. But then… Our team is still working on it."

She sighed heavily. "So, I'm locked up for the time being. I get it."

"Look… we know this is not the perfect situation right now, Mira, We know it's not your choice but what I really want is to have you safe, you know."

"Safe. From what possible dangers then?"

Callen glanced at Sam, then he got up as well. He gently touched her hand and said, softer than usually, "Comescus. Really, I don't want them to be after you. Give us a few days more, will you?"

It was him who wiped away the single tear from her cheek and she recognized his pain and anger and perhaps more, his fear, in his eyes at the same time. They'd fight this, together, but without having to worry about her at this very same time, and she understood. No matter that this… this place she had to stay put in, sucked, Mira was still astonished how safe she felt with her big brother around.

"I get it."

A dessert, some drinks, an hour and good talks later, Sam got up. He noticed how tired she looked and decided it was better to leave her to get some sleep.  
"Calling in the night watchers," he tried as a light message. Besides, it would be best if Mira and Callen got a chance to have a short moment for themselves.  
"Thanks, for all." He hugged the younger woman and left.

"Why would he thank me?" Mira asked curiously once she heard the door close again.

"Simply because it kept him from another night alone in a cold boat." Callen got on his feet as well and sent her a warm smile. "Same goes for me. Thanks, sis. It may or may not have felt anything special to you, but it does to me. There's so much we need to learn from one another. I'm grateful that we're both in here. It's incredible how — …and I always was the one without any known relatives. Yet here we are."

It got her all teary again, and he hugged her dearly. "See you soon," he finally said. She nodded and replied, repeating his words "See you soon. Bro."

Callen chuckled, then left once he noticed the guy Michael entered through the door, politely greeting them.

o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)

 **Lanfranco Street, Los Angeles || Two weeks later**

This was so much better, Callen figured. He felt relieved too. True, for Mira it must be different. Her friend would be out of sight for a whole while. He realized it would be difficult to her, even though Mira had agreed that justice needed to be done.

He halted his Mercedes in front of the place and stared ahead for some time.  
He'd visited his sister as often as possible, yet this was the first time he felt confident to simply step out of his car in front of the house, knowing the guards had left and all should be safe indeed.  
Time for a more relaxed session, and so he'd called and invited her for a simple lunch.

Then he got out, walked the small path to her door and noticed it was already slightly open.

"Mira?!" He reached for his gun, not too sure what to expect.

"She's nearly ready! Come on in," a male voice came from the kitchen.

A smile appeared on his face. Not what he expected, but heck, Callen liked the idea. "Gregg... man, how're doing?"  
He tucked away his gun the minute he recognized the FBI agent.

"Fine, actually," Gregg Jackson said. He looked okay indeed, with a healthy tan on his face and bare lower arms as he shook hands with Callen. "You look much better too, Callen."

He chuckled on this remark. "So… Mira…"

"Got her number from that little lady who mothers all of you."

He should have known: Hetty.

Mira showed up. "Ready to go. You too?" she asked Callen.

He raised his brows and grinned. "Sure. What about, ehm, him?"

She sighed and smiled back. "Him. Well… Gregg arrived some days ago in Los Angeles. "

Gregg scraped his throat and said "Maybe you should tell him first, Mira."

"Tell me what?" Callen wanted to know.

"A new assignment," Gregg said with grin.

"Let me guess. Los Angeles?"

Now Mira started to laugh out loud. "Not him. Or well, perhaps... No big bro. Actually, it's me who got a new assignment. A new guide, spotting the best destinations around the Black Sea: the Caucasus, Western Asia and Eastern Europe."

She was so enthusiastic and truth be told, he was proud of his younger sister. She'd seen many parts of the world which weren't the best parts to visit for the regular visitor. If it were him to decide, he would perhaps give her an advice she wouldn't appreciate. Simply because that one country, that one region, where the Callen family was fated to end. Never mind that Mira and he were still around — he didn't know if there were any of the Comescus around. It is why Callen decided he would avoid Constanta and Eforie for ever and ever.

Mira probably read some of his doubts. "Gregg in here decided he needed a vacation. So he's joining me, Callen. We'll be alright."

There were sparkles in his clear blue eyes now. Definitely not what he'd expected but he liked it. He liked to see her happy. It made him realize what the priorities in life were. Faith, family, and then everything else.

"We were going to have lunch, Mira and I. So, why don't you come along, Gregg. Got the feeling there's a whole new adventurous life ahead for you. We've got lots to discuss then."

* * *

 _So, this was the final chapter of this storyline. Let's imagine how Mira and Gregg will have their own life to live, and Callen has his own - knowing there's family, no matter where or how._  
 _Thank you all for reading. Of course, reviews are welcome, whenever you feel like leaving any!_

 _Greetz,_  
 _Richtsje_

Kni®benrots


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